Firefly: Unknown
by MBP40
Summary: One Serenity crew member begins a quest for redemption. (Written by a Firefly fan for Firefly fans. Full of callbacks, easter eggs, and homages. I apologize in advance for the introduction of original characters. I will add more chapters if there is interest. This is the first I've ever written, so all advice is welcome.)
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The simmering of cooking animal scraps created a greasy, sticky smell. It filled the air along the street and seeped into the clothing of the loose crowd of people meandering about the thoroughfare.

The knotted intersection, unaffectionately referred to as Six Points by its many frequenters, served firstly as an eclectic, makeshift market place and secondly as a buffer between the fresh, civilized city and the grungy, unrefined docks. To an inexperienced eye, the daily clamor of hawkers, barters, and shopkeeps reflected the sights and sounds that one would expect from reputable commerce. To the less naive, though, this borough, and the docks it was fed from, was a known haven for black marketers, smugglers, thieves, and general outlaws. Still, the environment was tolerated. The city folk were tacitly grateful that the more dangerous rogues seemed to get stuck in the dirty quarter and not venture further into the city proper.

No one place among the bustling shops reflected the underbelly of Six Points better than The Long Tom. The tired, dingy pub sat on the corner of one lane nearest the middle of the open-air bazaar. It's location, as well as its tendency to never close its doors, attracted the most unsavory of characters which arrived daily through the docks on Persephone. If there was ever any trouble or commotion in Six Points, it usually shot out from inside The Long Tom...

The noise from the bar was encroaching more and more over the sounds of the street, until finally, three men pushed through the double hung, swinging doors, into the midday air. The larger of the three men made the least noise but was clearly the more annoyed. He had a firm grip on the throat of one dirty rival while fending off a second disputant with his free hand. Losing his patience, the large slugger finally flattened his two attackers - ending both assailants' thrashing with one solid punch and a full body drop.

With his foes now lying dazed on the ground, the winner hovered above his first bloodied victim.

"The next time I tell you somethin', consider who you're talkin' to. Just for bein' un-polite, I'm making an execute-ive decision." He picked the concussed casualty up just enough to look him in the eye. "I'm takin' it all. My cut. Your cut. His cut. All of it's mine now. I consider it a tax for working with amateurs." The brute dropped the beaten man back to the ground and, without looking, shot a single bullet into the body of his second victim. He did not care where the bullet landed so long as it kept his second assailant on the ground. Then, the mercenary robbed both men of their money and aimed his steps back toward the heart of the city.

The fragile voice of a young girl stopped him. "Is this yours?" The beast stared cautiously around his shoulder at a youngster. She was slight and smeared with the dirt of living on the streets. "I think you dropped this." In her hands, she held a dusty, orange knitted cap. She extended her find to the brawler, timid with fear.

"Thanks," said the man, snatching the cap from her hands. Lazily, he swat the hat against his leg to get the dust off before donning it back atop his head. With his attention now diverted from his original path, the man's keen, tracking eyes were drawn skyward, to the familiar sight of a ship falling through the clouds above, and dropping into Persephone's Eavesdown Docks. It's a ship he recognizes on sight. Firefly class. The man grinned, hungry for something other than food, and started walking away from the city, towards the docks.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Whisker was breathing a little slower than he usually did on a job. He was gaining a greater and greater affinity for the smell of junkyards and wanted to enjoy the taste in the night air. The smell of stale water, stale metal, and fresh mud was more exhilarating than a fresh shower. If he thought deeply about it he might make the connection that junkyards, and their smell, meant parts, and parts meant they could keep flying. And flying meant he could get her back in the sky - untethered. Like she wants to be.

"Whisker!" Fram whispered as loud as he could. "Pay attention. You've disconnected me. Plug me back in."

"Sorry. Sorry." Whisker carefully reconnected Fram's pad to the relay box. His friend could now stop whinging and return his attention to the screen in his hand, while Whisker could return to his mute contemplation of their surroundings. The distant crickets had faded during their exchange but were now growing louder once again as the two continued their task in silence. Anyone more than ten feet away would not have distinguished the mechanical 'click' of electronics amongst the creaking bugs. A click which signaled to the thieves that the fence was off.

"That should be it," Fram said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

With cutters in hand, and a distrust in his eyes, Whisker asked again: "... are you sure?"

An impatient Fram finally took the initiative, grabbing the cutters from Whisker and cutting away at the wire mesh.

"One time that happened. One time," Fram insisted. "Out of what? 20? 30? Will you ever let it go?" The tech's pride was hurt by Whisker's apprehension. "Besides this is a junkyard, not an Alliance impound. It's only an alarm, and its mostly for critters. If it does go off we're more likely to see meat scrappers than lawmen."

Fram was referring to the scavengers which conducted shifty business on backwater moons like this one. For a slight fee, a business, or farm owner, could employ a small team of exterminators who would keep their land free from the nuisance animals which liked to nest and wreak havoc on one's property. Those same exterminators would then sell off their trappings to hash slingers who would, in turn, skin and cook the critters up, selling them as food in town or nearby markets. It was one of the many scrounging jobs one could find in the rougher parts of the 'verse.

"They both carry guns out here," Whisker noted. Fram could only roll his eyes in concession.

With enough of the mesh cut, Fram pushed back the fencing for he and Whisker to slip in.

"Do you know where to start looking?"

"Yeah. He keeps the more expensive stuff close to his shack. My guess, that's our best bet."

"Shiny. I'm following you."

Whisker hunkered down and scurried his way through the shadows of junk piles and junkyard equipment. He was nimble enough that even when he did stumble, one could hardly notice a faltered step. That's partly why he and Fram were always a good team, even when they were kids. Although Fram could hack, break, or pick his way into anything, he was often too clumsy to stay unnoticed for long. He did better following his pal's footsteps.

With a brisk pace, the pair reached the treasure trove pile of junk set next to the owners not _un_ -dignified shack. Whisker immediately began sifting through the pile as quietly as he could. Fram stayed close by, spying the yard on lookout. His eyes were already readjusted to the dark after having stared at his handheld screen. And that was luck for him, as the hacker spotted another get.

"Hey. Look at that. Is that a heat panel?"

Whisker paused his search long enough to confirm. "Yeah. Looks like. In good condition too."

"We should take it too, then."

"How would we carry it? It's almost twice the size of us and weighs ..." Whisker's sentence trailed off. He was not one for exacting figures. He relied mostly on his gut and intuition, whether he was rebuilding an engine or piloting the ship. "... well, it weighs more than we can carry. Forget it for now."

Returning to the pile of expensive junk, Whisker found an almost perfect piece for their needs.

"Heyhey. Here we go!"

"That? That looks too big," Fram questioned.

"I'll have to cut it down, but it should work like new. Let's go."

With prize in hand, Whisker made a dash across the yard, back towards their entry. He was barely five steps away from his accomplice when the dark yard around him lit up, flooded by the pole lights. Simultaneously, out from the shack came an armed, and angry, owner. A single shot from his rifle cracked the cool night air.

"Hold it buddy!" Though irate, the owner is still groggy, from his middle of the night sleep. He doubted his own ability to hit a moving target and opted instead to look his would-be robber in the eye first. "Just turn it around now."

Whisker slowly twisted towards the uneasy gun pointed at his back. Although there was an entire open yard between them, the owner easily recognized the peach-fuzzed face as it spun into view. The young pilot was still almost desperately trying to turn his sparse stubble into a proper beard.

"Whisker?!"

"Hey Burl."

Burl was instantly suspicious. "Are you alone?" he interrogated, warily looking around. "Your drunkard of a captain ain't with you, is she?"

"Nope. She's not here. Just me," Whisker freely stated. He remained hopeful he could divert attention from his friend still hiding in the dark.

"What you got there?" Burl asked, slowly lowering his gun. Usually Whisker was a friendly customer, even if his captain was not. "Injector coil, huh?" The muscular junker did the math of the situation, half asleep or not. "Well, why don't you just leave it lay there, where you're standin'. When Del feels like paying her debts she can come get it herself."

Not wanting to let his prize go, Whisker began thinking the only word he could remember in moments like this: STALL.

"Well, I gotta tell you, Burl, she's not in a mood for negotiations these days."

"Of the two moods she has I'm sure she isn't. But I'm not letting you leave with it." To emphasize his point Burl began raising his gun again.

Before he could fix his aim, the still night air is cut by the hefty sound of Burl's hog-mule - a mule that the junker has suped up for the hefty tolls of junkyard work. Blasting into the light came Fram, riding high on the heavy engine, 4 wheel hog-mule, face covered liked a bandit, and gun drawn. With a few shots in Burl's direction, the junkyard owner is forced back inside his shack for cover.

"Jump on!" Fram shouted to Whisker, not slowing down.

Whisker's first instinct was to ask where, and how. Before he speaks though, he sees the answers he needs. Spritely he lept onto his escape sled - a heat panel, towed by chain, dragging along the ground from the rear of the hog-mule. Clinging to the panel with one hand and holding his new coil in the other Whisker egged on his partner:

"Go, GO, GO!"

With little regard for neatness, the noisy and chaotic mess crashed the front gate.

Burl returned through his door, gun firing, just in time to see all five - Whisker, Fram, his hog-mule, the injector coil, and the heat panel - disappear in the night.

* * *

The cool glass of the bottleneck felt solid in her hand. It was often the only thing that did when they were grounded for this long. This particular bottle was only a drink shy of empty. A leftover from the previous week's waiting. It lightly sloshed as she climbed the ladder to the roof of the ship. Often she would climb up top with a whole bottle to enjoy, either alone or with crew or with ... other company. Tonight she wanted just one drink under the stars. That would be enough. Because tomorrow, she knew, they would be back in the sky. Untethered.

Lying on her back on top of her home like this was always more comfortable than lying in her bunk. At least when they were on the ground. She was up here the first time she realized this was not a ship, an object built for the purposes of space travel. This configuration of turbines, thrusters, generators, hulls, hatches, and engine added up to more - more than an object. It was a person. Actual and whole. Someone she knew deeply. When she found the sagging ship, it reflected the poor care and misuse that Del had experience with. As though she saw a twin sister. A sister that gave her warmth and comfort, and would allow sleep even during the most harrowing of times. Tonight was no different as she settled onto her back, drank her bottle's last shot, and let her eyes drift closed...

She couldn't say which sobered her sleepy eyes first, the morning sun peeking over the valley or Fram's clear voice.

"We're ready to go," he hollered, his head poking above the ship's roofline.

"Shiny," Del said. "Let's pick up our feet." She stood herself up on the hull of the ship, wobbling only slightly from her tired state. Seeing his captain rousing, Fram retreated his way back down the ladder.

"Alright, Sarah Adelaide," the young leader chided herself. "Time to put on your big girl pants. Time to be a captain." In almost one complete move she emptied her hand of the dry whiskey bottle, retrieved her holstered gun lying next to her, and alighted back into the ship.

Quickly as her excitement would allow, Del sealed the top hatch behind her and continued on her way to the bridge to join Whisker. Unsurprisingly, he was greasy and soot-covered from a night of ship repairs.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you the hurry we're in, Whisk. Being a week late with our delivery does not look good to future employers."

"I know. Sit back. Just watch me fly."

With a soft, moaning effort the Firefly hoisted its four feet gently off the ground and back into the belly of the ship, just as the powerful turbines ignited to push them away from the heavy valley floor. Both Whisker and Del felt relief come over them.

"I'll let 'im know we're coming," Del said. Leaving the bridge she aimed herself for the cortex in her quarters.

Before reaching the ladder to her room though she is halted by a more immediate chore – Ambrose. The name did not fit the hardened muscle and feelings filling the hallway in front of her. A high-brow name for a thick-browed half wit. It was clear to all who knew him that his father had given him the name in an attempt to rise above his unrespected standing in the community. Suffice it to say, he failed.

"Not now Ambrose."

"Do you still believe you're cut out for this line of work?" He pressed her, trying to imply an expertise which he did not truly have.

With a steadiness seldom seen from her during the last week on the ground, Del responded simply: "I do."

"Are you willing to-"

"I am."

Del's blatant impatience would scare a normal person away from further conversation. Ambrose, however, was not an observant type. He eyed her like a prey that doesn't know its danger.

"Badger put me here for a reason. It'd be better for you, girlie, to remember - "

Before Ambrose could finish, his mouth was stopped by the cold steel barrel of Del's sidearm pressing up, under his chin. The heavy weight of the gun did not slow her intention.

"It'd be better for you not to talk to me like a whore. My memory's just fine."

Del paused long enough for Ambrose to contemplate the feeling of a bullet shooting through his head. Then, seeing her point made, she continued on with her business, climbing down the ladder to her bunk. She won't be sorry to see him go.

Finally, in her quarters, Del tossed her large, unbalanced sidearm on the bed and sat at her blank cortex screen. She needed to collect herself before making the unnerving wave. A deep sigh later, she was ready.

Badger is waiting at the other end with a quick reply.

"Hello, Little One. Does this mean I can expect delivery soon?"

"Just touched off. We'll be there in a days time."

"Good to hear Cupie. And how's our boy-o doing?"

She hated his terms of endearment. He seemingly hadn't learned that they make her skin crawl.

"He's doing his job. That's all."

"Ahhh. You two still going at it are you? I really thought these last couple months would bring you closer together, more like blood relations by now." Del noticed a distinct lack of surprise in his voice. She wondered what he really intended, putting Ambrose on the ship.

"Ah well. A beaming father can't have everything."

She knew he was referring to his son, but the implication that she was somehow also related to him angered her. The feeling was worsened by the knowledge that she did owe him in some regard. Under his thumb, as she was.

"Right. Well like I said, we're on our way."

"See you soon Cupie." Del couldn't shut the signal off fast enough.

The next day passed with little affair. A few drinks. More than a few nostalgic stories of Fram, Whisker, and Del's childhood gallivants. Occasionally Ambrose would step in awkwardly to a conversation. But no surprises. And soon enough Whisker was dropping the whole lot, Firefly, crew, and contraband, into the Eavesdown Docks at Persephone.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

He briefly considered removing his orange knit cap in reverence to the old boat in front of him, then dismissed the thought before looking into its meaning. It's been more than ten years since the Alliance quarreled with the Reavers over an isolated moon on the outer rim. And his old home showed the signs of that age plus the years before. The once emblazoned name was now unreadable. Both shuttle bays were empty, although, he noted, only one looked barren from disuse. A number of other parts had fallen free from their fittings, but there were some spots that looked as though they were scrubbed new. Someone had recently replaced one of the hull's heat panels, too. There was still love here, for this old boat. A love that, although he rarely comprehended, he still appreciated.

And clearly, the new owners had a protective care for her. She was securely locked up from all would be thieves and stowaways. Luckily for him, having lived on this specific ship for a number of years, he still knew more ways of ingress than the current crew.

* * *

Standing in the tiny, dank, makeshift warehouse, it's hard not to remember the years the three of them, Fram, Del and Whisker, spent playing around or breaking into Badger's "thievers' den". It's definitely not ironic. Playing at being young criminals on Persephone's seedy streets meticulously prepared them for their real-life smuggling jobs. They've been dodging, hiding, tricking, and outright annoying authority figures for most their lives. Originally it was just for fun - but now it could be fun and profitable. Well, occasionally. Occasionally profitable.

"This all of it then?" Badger asked. He gave a side glance at Ambrose to confirm the answer he was about to hear.

"Yeah," Del responded. Ambrose nodded his agreement.

Badger ripped off the top of the first case and removed the treasure from inside. Top of the shelf scotch whiskey. Properly distilled, aged and bottled. Not the rotgut, wood alcohol embalmed in the next warehouse over. Premium quality liquor. One case could buy Del and her crew fuel, food, and supplies enough for two months.

"Would you like a sip deary?" Badger asked. Unceremoniously, he cracked the bottle open and poured himself a few fingers.

"Not for me thanks. I have more discerning tastes."

Some might find her turn down odd. But those closest to her knew she had reasons for everything. Premium liquor, to her mind, didn't taste different from a decent mid-range whiskey. And they both came out the same way. Mid-priced liquor also made her think of hard work - people who struggled, with pride, to keep themselves off the street or out of legal troubles. High priced liquor reminded her of the ornately wealthy who spilt a 100 credit shot and laughed too loud about it.

All of that aside, though, she also has an important rule: never drink while doin' business.

"Suit yourself," Badger said, cleaning his glass in one gulp. "Alright then, next up -"

"Whoa-whoa-whoa," Del interrupted. "There is no next up. The deal was this run for you and we're clear."

"That was before you were a week late."

"We're a week late because someone shot up our ship trying to get this load."

"Well, I had to send _someone_ after it, didn't I. It was one moon away. You were supposed to be there and back in a jiff. I was simply trying to retrieve what you could not deliver."

"As you can see we can and did deliver," Fram interjected. "In spite of your interference,"

"Tell you what. We put this one down as a wash. You do this next one for me and not only will I let you keep that junk ship but I'll cut you in for ... let's say 10?"

Del, Whisker, and Fram all paused, keenly aware that this was one of Badger's "too good to be true" deals.

"Now that's a ship in your name, plus start-up scratch."

Wary, Del inquired. "What's the job?"

"You'll like this. I believe it is uniquely suited to this crew. There's a factory delivery with three, how should we call them, high-end machines of the pleasure kind." He paused with a smile, waiting for his wit to sink into his audience.

"Love-bots," Del said, unable to hide her disgust.

"Penny for the little lady. Intercept the delivery before it gets to Ariel, get the bots and deliver them to my guy."

In almost unison Del, Whisker, and Fram droned in:

"What's the catch?"

Somewhat offended at being caught Badger gave his admission:

"You can't just take them and drop them off. They need to be hacked and disconnected from tracking." Here Badger paused again as he, Del, and everyone else in earshot slowly looked to Fram.

Although it took a moment, Fram realized his place in this: "Oh. Ummm. I can do it. Probably."

"Probably?"

"No. Yeah. I can do it."

"Excellent," Badger brightened. "Is it a deal then?"

Del thought, carefully, then decided to push it:

"One more thing. Take him back," she said, nodding at Ambrose. "He slows us down."

"I'm built for speed, sweetie - "

Before the word exited his mouth Del pulled her gun and shot him through the leg. Ambrose fell to the floor bleeding. Quickly moving on, Del fixed her gun on Badger's nearest guard, prepared to keep going if need be.

"Deal," Badger broke in. He had a need to put a halt to the impending violence. Both he and Del knew that while the sound of one gunshot would be ignored on the streets of Six Points, two or more would be gunplay which would demand the attention of local lawmen. And that is something Badger could not afford. "I'll have coordinates for drop off soon enough."

"Deal then." Del held her gun steady as she and her two friends eased their way backward out of the warehouse, and out of Badger's grip.

Whisker couldn't help poking the wounded man on the ground before disappearing: "See you round Ambrose."

Ambrose pulled himself to his feet ready to limp after them, swearing in Mandarin.

" _Ta Ma De_."

"You stupid git!" Badger jumped at him. The bleeder's pursuit was ended before it began. "I put you on that ship to give you an opportunity! An opportunity to show me some initiative. I gave _you_ an opportunity, and _she_ took it! You lost!" Having expelled his disappointment, Badger tossed his son an old, soiled kerchief from his pocket. "Now quit bleeding on my floor."

* * *

The walk back to the ship was becoming lighter with each step. Being under Badger's thumb was no picnic, but at least they were rid of his spy. One less set of eyes watching them. Still, though, there was a loss to be calculated. Whisker started the math.

"I know he wasn't to be trusted, but there are times when dumb muscle gives an advantage in a situation."

"True. The one thing we always seem to be lacking is brute force. Where can we find another - "

"Maybe it's time we went and got Spangler," Del said, surprisingly. Clearly, the prospect of being rid of Badger all together was affecting her mood for the better, and her judgment for the worse. Whisker and Fram exchanged an apprehensive look.

"We might leave him where he's at for now," said Whisker. "A while longer in the Alliance's care might make him more amenable to seeing you again Del."

"Yeah. Let's wait until he's a little more desperate for his freedom," Fram agreed. "What about Burl? Maybe if we agree to give back the mule he'd -"

"Not the hog!?" Whisker wined. "I've already got a new paint job planned."

"Maybe we don't need muscle on this job. I think it's going to take more finesse to get in and out. Then, if Fram can do the hacking, we're done. Right as rain." Fram and Whisker were not about to let her cheeriness get them into trouble again.

"Every time you say that Del, one of us gets shot."

"Yeah, and with Ambrose gone this time it will probably be me or Fram."

Del stopped the group in front of their Firefly's main doors. Her friends' souring pragmatism needed one of her trademark reassurances.

"OK fine. This time I'll make _sure_ it's me."

Fram and Whisker each rolled their eyes as they passed her on their way to the cargo bay doors.

"Anyway, our real problem right now is fuel. Even if we burn low we don't have enough to make it to Ariel and a drop-off," Del said. "After sun goes down, Whisker and I will go a-borrowing." The three were finally in agreement on something.

With the secondary cargo bay doors groaning open, Whisker was the first to see him. A large, burly man almost lounging in the middle of the cargo bay. He held the nub of a cigar in his mouth, and a high powered rifle in his right arm. A rifle pointed directly at the trio.

All three crewmen froze, knowing enough not to reach for a gun while the stranger had the drop on them. The silence between all four participants perfectly captured the perplexity of the situation for the trio. Eventually, Del spoke up.

"Who are you?"

The man with the gun removed the cigar from his mouth briefly, so he could be heard clearly.

"I'm the man they call Jayne," he said. He liked saying it that way these days. He always hoped someone would recognize the reference to his legend.

These three didn't though.

No one ever did.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"If you're trying to high jack a ship, you picked the wrong one," Whisker said. "There's not enough fuel to get very far."

"I noticed," Jayne returned. "But, from what I can tell looking through your operation here, you three probably already have an idea to rectify that con-on-undrum." Jayne smiled at himself proudly for using such a big word correctly. "But first things first. You, Captain Lady. Take three steps forward and set your gun down."

Del paused briefly before grudgingly following instructions. Slowly wrapping her hand around the grip of her large semi-repeater Del started to pull her gun from its holster as she walked forward. Jayne stopped her.

"Ah ah. Holster and all."

Reluctantly, the annoyed girl removed her hand from the gun handle and proceeded to disarm. Keeping a mean eye on the gun-wielding thug she undid her holster and dropped it to the ground.

"Good. Now ... Step back." Del continued to sneer, stepping back. "You're next smarty." Jayne indicated Fram. "Same thing. Set yours right on top of hers." Fram paced forward and set his holstered gun on top of Del's before shuffling back to his starting spot. "And you too ... uh ... other guy." Whisker disarmed in the same fashion as his comrades before returning to Del's side.

"Are you going to kill us?" Del asked.

"Not all three of you. Just the ones who can't pilot."

None of the three flinched at his threat, instead remaining stock still, hands bared, and deliberately staring at their captor. This earned them a little measure of respect from the brute.

"Ahhhh. You guys are a real crew, ain't ya? All for a one together-ness and such. Huh ..." Jayne thought on this surprise. "Tell you what, I'll let the other two go free now and the flyer can come with me in the ship. When I do what I gotta do, maybe one or both come back to you."

"We don't leave each other behind."

"Except Ambrose," Whisker whispered.

"Not now," Fram said out of the side of his mouth.

No one left behind. Jayne remembered that sentiment, like a distant call for dinner. And now his purpose seemed more urgent. He started contemplating his next move, which was not an easy task for him.

With the gunman losing himself in contemplation, Del and her mates began looking for any chance of a tables' turn. As it turns out, they didn't have to look far. The helpless party and their hi-jacker are unexpectedly jolted by the sounds of the shuttle bay's docking clamps whirring to life. Someone else was arriving.

Jayne reacted by putting his decision-making abilities back on the shelf as his attention was now drawn upwards. The three hostages, recognizing his distraction, each lunged for their respective firearms, in one scrum. Unfortunately, the lack of a plan has done little more than create an uncoordinated mess on the floor. A mess magnified by Fram's clumsiness, and Whisker's panic. A tangle of holsters, weapons, arms, and hands is preventing any one person from getting a hold.

Jayne returned his gaze to the scrawling chaos on the floor to watch.

"Oh great," he sighed to himself. "Amateurs."

* * *

Iris eased into her landing gingerly, and a little slower than usual. The extra week of waiting for her crewmates' return gave her a little too much time to enjoy her indulgences around Persephone. Her heart and body were still buzzing with the week's memories. She felt almost lascivious returning home to her friends. Hopefully, there would be time to share her more lurid tales with her crewmates. She liked spreading her excitement around.

It took her a couple of tries to finally get her shuttle's hatch secured to the Firefly's dock hatch. Her shuttle was a model year or two newer than the old boat. It didn't look totally out of place from the outside, but it was finicky when it came to actually latching in. If it weren't tightly secured, her shuttle could just as easily slide out in a hard turn.

The warm buzz she was feeling was finally interrupted with a cold splash - the sound of a single gunshot from the belly of the firefly. With a reckoned speed Iris readied herself, and rushed onto the catwalk over the cargo bay, rifle in her shoulder and prepared for a fight.

She was completely unsurprised to find her friends in a compromised situation - all three lying paralyzed on the floor in front of what she could easily see as an ornery, large man. He was standing over them, gun in hand. His gaze fixed on her, she knew her entrance was no surprise to him, but that did not mean she didn't have the upper hand.

Over the barrel of her rifle, she could see Jayne's gun trained squarely on Del, only a foot or two away from her face.

"You might want to take a moment there missy," Jayne said. "You may or may not be able to drop me from there, but I can definitely put her down for good from this range."

"Darlin', from up here I could kill all your children," Iris said. She was bluffing. She was damn good at bluffing. Better than she was at shooting.

Unfortunately, she bluffed the one man in the 'verse who just didn't care right now. Jayne had a good idea for the first time he can remember and he was going to try to make it happen.

Before he could make up his mind though, the whole standoff was brought to a screeching halt in the most unlikely of ways ... Del had seen an opportunity.

"Why don't _you_ come with _us_."

A pin drop silence followed her words.

Everyone with or without a gun in their hand, except Del, heard the stupid idea for what it was: ... stupid.

"You sound like a man who needs to hire a ship. _This_ ship. And this ship has a crew in need of a ... blunt instrument. Who says we can't all be happy? Even if it is just for a short while."

There was a lo-o-ong moment while Jayne did the math. If he had to admit it, he admired her for selling him with a gun in her face. It reminded him of another captain who once did the same thing.

"Do I get to pick my own room?"

"Sure," said Del. In unison, all three hostages on the floor spoke up:

"Not mine."

After contemplating a little further, finally, Jayne agreed.

"... Deal."

* * *

Jayne sat at the same farmhouse table he had sat at so often, many years before. Only now he sat at the head of the table, as opposed to his regular seat along one of the long sides. The table, like the Firefly and Jayne himself, showed its history. Faded color, faded finish, a few new gouges. In one place someone had begun carving letters into its top: A, M, B, and R. Although he noted its age, he wasn't one to reminisce. He sat, almost gleefully, eating his breakfast from a bowl, occasionally smiling at his audience, who were watching him from the far end.

Whisker and Fram sat with a pestered disposition as far from their new crewman as the table would allow. The two were grumpy from a night of thieving fuel and evading the law. Iris stalked easily around the kitchenette, preparing her breakfast while also keeping an eye on the new dynamics of the crew. The room was quiet save for the munching sounds billowing out of Jayne's mouth.

Del approached the galley from the hallway to the bridge. As she arrived outside the door, a conversation broke out. She paused to listen, unseen.

"Amateurs."

Jayne's munching went on.

"What?" said Jayne, belatedly realizing they were talking to him.

"Yesterday. You called us amateurs. You don't know us well enough to make that assumption," said Fram. He was clearly taking umbrage.

"Sure kid," Jayne said. He only barely lost attention from his bowl. "Lemme ask you: lying on the ground as you were, which gun were you going for?"

Fram thought and then answered too quickly. "My gun."

"Hrmph," Jayne grumbled. He made a show of removing the spoon from his mouth before he spoke. "That's your first mistake. In a firefight, any gun will do. Dead men don't have sent-iment-talities. Also," he continued, his mouth half full of food, "if I put you to it, who's your best shot?"

Whisker knew this one without a doubt. "Del."

"Right," Jayne agreed. "She should always be carrying more than one then. Not to mention, that gun of hers is too big for her. She could easily have a full second drop on most others with a better 'un."

"How'd you know she was the captain?" Whisker asked.

Jayne fixed his eyes on the question and the questioner. "She has that air of ... pretentious -ess... reminds me of someone I used to know."

"Why did you call me smarty?" Fram asked. Jayne shifted his gaze to intimidate the techie kid.

"You remind me of someone I used to annoy." Iris laughed a little at this.

Del took note of the advice as she ended her spying and joined her crew with the details of their next job. It's business time.

"Just got Badger's wave. We're on. The delivery ship is on time, and so are we. Iris will set the trap. Once aboard we grab, we go. Then Fram can de-program 'em once we have them back here. Everyone know their part?"

Almost everyone silently understood and agreed. Jayne raised his hand.

"What am I doing?"

"Lifting heavy stuff," Del said plainly. It's obvious Jayne isn't entirely happy with this answer but he gives no reply. "Shiny? Let's get to it."

Jayne stood up from the table a little too proudly in front of his new crew mates. "Well then ... Let's be bad guys." The room stopped still for a moment as everyone stared at him. Eventually the band of thieves scattered with varying responses.

"Sure."

"OK old man."

"A bit dramatic ain't he."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The buzzing, red warning light roused the co-pilot from his dozing and directed his attention forward. The ship was slowing to a stop. Searching for the forward floodlights amidst his control panel took him a minute, but eventually, the space in front of his transport was fully ablaze with light. He let the alarm continue to beep throughout the bridge as he leaned forward to look through the main window.

"Shut that thing off," said the pilot to his rookie. He was not hiding his gloominess as he entered the bridge. He was unhappy to be called back because of the sloppiness of his co-pilot.

"It's a proximity warning," said the co-pilot.

"I know what it is. Shut it off." The green assistant did as he was told and silenced the alarm.

Neither men were particularly surprised at the warning. An occasional asteroid or other debris would float through their solitary path about once every 5 or 6 runs. The ship's auto nav would immediately slow to a stop only if their direct trajectory was blocked. A simple course correction and reignition took little effort to avoid collisions. This time, however, the two transport engineers were mystified to find a small shuttle floating in their path. A shuttle fully intact, from the looks, although dark and apparently lifeless.

"That's a pretty small ship to be out here all alone," noted the yawning co-pilot.

"It was probably a part of that one over there," returned the pilot. He was pointing out one side of the bridge's thick glass windows.

Off to their starboard side, and a good distance away, the two men could see the black and brown silhouette of a larger ship dangling in space. Firefly class, from the looks of it. It too was floating dark and lifeless - derelict.

"Space junk," said the pilot. " Make a course correction and get us moving."

"Uh-huh," droned the co-pilot. It was obvious the apprentice pilot was too fascinated by their find to get back to his job. Seeing his co-pilots attention held by the trash floating in front of them the pilot decided to make the course correction himself. The sooner they were moving again the sooner he could go back to his bunk. His switch joggling and button mashing to disengage the auto nav could only be described as mundane.

The co-pilot, still captivated by the find, continued his surveyance of the abandoned shuttle. Taking manual control of their transport's front spotlight he scanned the entirety of the flotsam, from stem to stern. Eventually, he settled directly on the darkened cockpit windows, hoping to get a glimpse inside. Nearly pressing his face against his bridge's glass he soon had his intrigue compensated. The attention of the spotlight had drawn out a single occupant inside the discarded shuttle. A widespread hand frantically began pounding against its glass window.

" _Wuh de ma_!" exclaimed the co-pilot.

His shock was enough to draw the pilot away from his console, and his job. Together, the two travel weary transpoes held their breath as they watched the pale, blue-tinged face of a young woman, eyes wide with panic, trapped inside an abandoned shuttle, desperately mouthing the words: "HELP ME!"

After a momentary collection of the situation, the men jumped into action. Suddenly caught up in the thrill of the unexpected the two transpoes began scrambling, each trying to do the other's job as well as their own. This was a rare moment for them to either be heroes or to find treasure.

Although it felt like seconds to them, it was more like minutes before they had positioned their forward docking clamps with the drifting shuttle's entryway. As the pilot finally latched onto the shabby spacecraft the rook co-pilot rushed to the nose of their transport, in hopes of being the first hero. The pilot had barely dropped the ship's yoke before running to catch up. He would arrive only seconds behind his eager competitor.

In fact, the pilot arrived just in time. For as soon as the co-pilot pressurized the seal between the ships and opened the transport's airlock, the pilot was already there to catch the shuttles contents spilling out into his arms. A single shivering woman. She was wrapped in a thick blanket and wearing a flimsy, if not clinging, dress. Though her skin was cool and clammy to the touch, her frame and appearance was still seductively lush.

The shock of moment slipped past the two men's awareness as they began an inquiry into the mystery before them.

"Miss? Are you alone?"

"Is anyone else on board?" the young co-pilot asked. Still quivering from cold the woman shook her head no.

"What's your name miss?"

"S-S-S-Savannah," came the chattering words.

"What happened to you?"

Seemingly unable to comprehend, the young woman slowly shook her head no again, while also squirming her arms, legs, and body against the two men, looking for heat.

"It's alright, dear. We've got you now."

The frozen shuttle already forgotten, and left unguarded, the transpoes gently picked up their guest and led her to the common room which served as kitchen, dining, and provisional infirmary for these long trips. The pilot and co-pilot could not believe their luck. They were heroes who had found treasure.

The main door to the cramped, over-used room rolled open, and immediately the young woman realized she was in deeper trouble than she had been expecting. Standing before her and her saviors were five severe, and unhappy men. Each overdressed in black, tactical gear.

Although there were no visible markings or indications, Iris recognized them immediately. She knows Alliance soldiers when she sees them.

* * *

With the transpoes otherwise occupied Del, and her blunt instrument, crept to life from the hidden confines of the not so lifeless shuttle. Discreetly, the two skulked aboard the transpo ship and began their way to the rear cargo holds, bypassing the common room and the newly discovered dangers therein.

"Shouldn't we deal with these guys first?" Jayne stopped to ask.

"Iris can handle two lonely transpoes. Let's find what we came for," said Del. Timing and speed are more important than she knows, now, but nevertheless she urged her partner to follow her deeper towards the rear of the ship.

Soon enough, and with no resistance, the two reached their goal. Silently traversing the narrow corridor which ran nose to tail of the transport, Del and Jayne were now standing in the broad hallway which served as both the transpoes' locker room, as well as the main access for the three separate cargo holds. Three heavy girdered doors were now the only barriers to them and their plunder. Del promptly started directing.

"You check the first one. I'll get number two here." With no reason to disagree, the muscle man followed orders.

Jayne opened the hatch to the first cargo hold and entered, his flashlight tracing the rows of boxes stacked on boxes inside. It is obvious to him this is mostly foodstuffs, probably the crews' food stores. Although he hasn't found what he came for, he does take the time to line his pockets with handfuls of free meals and treats.

Meanwhile, behind the second hatch, Del, too, has found rows and rows of boxed goods. The small crates are too small to house what they're after. Opening one up she knows she won't find what she came for, but at least her curiosity will be satisfied. Inside the nearest box, she finds dozens of little geisha dolls with big heads that wobble. She smiles to herself, then lines her pocket with one. She loves those.

Returning to the hall/locker room she is met by Jayne. The two can see the other has not found what they came for. In silent acknowledgement, they both move to the third cargo hold.

* * *

The conversation between the transpoes and their secretive passengers is getting tense. The transpoes are not used to passengers in general, much less passengers of such an intimidating nature.

"I was going to ask why we're stopped, but I can see now. You two were expecting to get your guns waxed," said the harsh team captain.

"She was floating on a derelict. She needed saving," insisted the young co-pilot.

"Sure," the captain said in a brush off. His years of Alliance training had left him with a perpetual suspicion of coincidences. Especially in the middle of nowhere.

"Hey, you? You?" he spat at her. "What's your name? How'd you get out here?" Iris knew enough to not answer immediately. She needed to buy as much time as she could. "HEY!" The gang captain's patience was thin. He signified it with an overly hard slap to Iris' face. "Hey! What's your name?"

"Her name's Savannah. That's all we've been able to get out of her."

"Yeah. I bet," he said. "You two get back on the bridge and get us moving again. We'll take care of little girl lost here."

Knowing they're outmatched, the transpoes acquiesce and only somewhat reluctantly drift backwards out of the room on their way back to the bridge. They aren't within earshot when one of the other Alliance members is alerted, from a handheld to other goings on in the ship.

"Sir. Someone's opened the hatch to our cargo bay."

The captain's suspicions are once again confirmed, and he unloads his anger on Iris. A hardened fist crunches against the side of her head which puts her on the floor.

Next, it's time to do what he was paid for.

"Carlson you stay and watch our honeypot here. Everyone else, with me."

With almost robotic coordination, four of the men exit and make way towards the rear of the ship.

* * *

Seconds after entering the final cargo hold, Del spots what they came for: a tall, flip top crate, large enough to hold three love-bots. B-lining to her target, Del fails to notice the handful of smaller crates marked with Alliance logos. She flipped open the crate to confirm her find: three life-sized dolls. All three dressed far more prudish than she expected something called a "love-bot" to be.

Jayne was not watching the discovery play out in front of him. He was preoccupied with the single red beam which crossed the threshold of the cargo's hatch just below knee height. A trip wire.

"They know we're here," he warns Del. Leaving her in limbo, he retraces his steps towards their entrance hastily. It's not far until he sees four "definitely not lazy transpoes" charging, on their way down the slim hallway from the front of the ship. Without hesitation or a second thought, Jayne drew one, then a second, sidearm and opened fire. Luckily he brought some guns. Lucky too, he soon realizes, the team he's facing must also use low powered weaponry, so as not to pierce the hull. Return shots are clanging all around him.

The barrage of scattering shots alerts the rest of the ship. There's a firefight underway.

* * *

With the sound of gunplay starting, Iris knows she needs to get to her shuttle. "Easy enough," she thinks. Lying helplessly sprawled on the floor, she knows her advantage and begins to use it. Lazily, she lets the flimsy material of her dress overexpose her to the young man with the rifle. One way or another this tactic always works.

The soldier thinks himself prepared for trappings. He rolls his eyes at the blatant sexual move. "Oh please - " he begins to say. Unfortunately, his rolling eyes were the one-second distraction Iris needed. Grabbing the barrel of his rifle, Iris pulled the arrogant guard down into her knee, taking his breath from him immediately. Her fight has now started.

The transpoes, hearing shots, immediately panicked.

"Go!" the pilot commanded. "I'll get the ship started again."

The co-pilot knows his place and does as told, retreating to investigate the ruckus coming from the rear cargo. The pilot continues his way to the bridge, setting just one foot onto the bridge before realizing his mistake. There is still a shuttle attached to the forward dock. The unbalanced front load, as well as the extra weight, will make maneuvering sluggish and imprecise while also burning much-needed fuel. He will have to return to the dock to unhook the ballast before they can go anywhere.

Descending the stairs and bounding the short hallway, he arrived at the galley door in time to witness Iris pummelling her guard into unconsciousness with the blunt end of his own rifle. The pilot's arrival has not gone unnoticed. With her guard now down for good Iris aimed her new, Alliance made, firepower at her one time savior.

"Out of my way 'dear'," she jeered. The pilot is too petrified to stop her as she makes her way past him and goes straight for her shuttle.

Safely aboard her home, Iris sealed the shuttle's hatch behind her and threw the rifle on her bed. She is in a rush to raise Del on her comm.

"Del its Iris. There's Alliance aboard. Do you read me? There's an Alliance squad aboard."

"You're not going to believe this -," Del said sarcastically between shooting, "- but I figured that out." Her shots are doing very little good for her and Jayne's situation. In fact, Jayne is mostly holding off the four men on his own. Del needs a plan, quick. Impressed by Jayne's shooting as she is, Del knows exchanging gunfire is not going to get them off the ship, much less earn their payday. Iris has always been good with her fists but not with guns. She couldn't shoot the broad side of an Alliance carrier on a clear day, much less four trained purple bellies shooting back. They need a genius escape.

Desperation is just about to take hold of Del until, looking at the transpoes' lockers, the daring captain gets a flash.

"Iris, we're cut off from you," Del shouted into the small, black radio comm in her hand. "Get back to the Firefly and get the engine ready for hard burn. Tell Whisk I've got a quick exit planned."

Iris didn't hesitate at Del's words. She disembarked from the transpo with jittery haste, giving the ship and all aboard a decent jolt as she did so.

Returning to her blunt instrument Del put her new plan in motion. "Hold them off on your own for a second."

"That's pretty much what I was doing anyway," Jayne quipped, to no one in particular.

Del ripped open the lockers to find the two plums she needed. With all the effort her slight frame could muster, she hoisted her new prizes into the third cargo hold. She returned long enough to grab the twenty-foot extinguisher hose off the wall and call for Jayne. "Are you comin' old man?"

Jayne's final glancing shots ensured the Alliance squad would think twice about an all-out pursuit, allowing time for the bandit's retreat to the cargo hold's door. Once inside, Del sealed the door tight and locked it as Jayne looked around at their new defensive position.

The items spread on the floor in front of him, clue Jayne into the plan. He tries not to smile too big. Neither he nor Del will say it to the other, but this was going to be fun.

The Alliance team, noticing a break in the shots from their would be thieves, began advancing once again. Their overly precautious pace soon becomes their undoing, though, as they hear the alarm of the outermost bay doors opening. They know now, they have only seconds to react. In single file they sprint down the bottleneck hall, arriving just in time to look through the window of cargo bay three's sealed hatch.

There, standing side by side in the center of the cargo bay, they see their two adversaries. The pirate thieves are clad in the transpoes' space suits. While Del's suit is too big and frumpy for her, Jayne's is a hair too tight. A length of hose is tied around Del's waist, and also the waists of three love-bots.

As Jayne cinches the final knot around his waist, Del brightly waves at the team through the glass.

"Hit it old man," says the girl.

The team of Alliance guards can only watch, in slow motion, as Jayne presses the emergency release button dangling from its wire in front of him. Quick as a laser, cargo bay three's auxiliary doors pop open, and the whole bundle of thieves and bots is sucked out the rear of the ship and sprayed into space.

Breathing heavy, the transpo co-pilot arrives on the scene just in time to stare over the Alliance guards shoulders, out the cargo hatch window, and into space.

"What are we looking at?" he asks.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Jayne bolted straight up and out of the mess of bodies on the cargo bay floor. "Wooohooo!" he exclaimed. Gleefully, he whipped the spacesuit's helmut off his head and tossed it playfully on the floor. "That was bracing!"

Del came out of the tangle in a less clean set of motions. She had to kick both her feet wildly several times before finally getting free of the tethered love-bots. Her crew sat and watched. Clearly, she had murder on her mind.

" _Nee tzao ss-ma? Nee-tow wuh-kai chang?_ " she yelled into the atmo of the cargo bay. Nearby, Fram and Iris remained quiet to let her fume. "I'll ring his cockneyed little neck! Of _course,_ there's Alliance on the ship! Why _wouldn't_ there be Alliance on the ship?! Why would it be easy?" She finished her last question in time to throw her helmet across the bay.

Iris and Fram replied with the obvious answer: "Too good to be true."

Del continued her curse-filled rant unabated, looking for something to break. Her pique was filling the entirety of the ship's barn belly. Jayne was unable to contain himself as he watched her tantrum. He found this all too much and started roaring with laughter. Soon it was a competition between Del's flinging anger and Jayne's uninhibited guffawing.

Whisker arrived in the bay just as Jayne's cracking finally got to the seething captain. He immediately made way to his captain in hopes of checking her fury. Before he could say anything, Del pulled Whisker's gun from his holster and pointed it at Jayne. Though the steel was cold from disuse, Del's temper heated the grip. The whole band of thieves took a beat to make note of a weapon being drawn.

"Is it still funny old man?"

Jayne looked directly at the barrel of the firearm and then laughed out a definitive, "Y-Y-Yes!"

His frivolity was now becoming contagious. Iris and Fram involuntarily joined in, giggling lightly, and not trying too hard to hide it. Del couldn't help but be cooled by this. She decided, irritably, to return the gun to Whisker. She was still not laughing though.

"Get to work Fram," she commanded.

Everyone could see the fun was dying down and so, set about their respective jobs, still chuckling to each other. In spite of the captain's outburst, the mood was light with a sense of a job well done. As Jayne and Del climbed out of their respective suits, Whisker confronted his wreckless captain.

"So I'm going to say it again for the _sixth_ time-"

"Don't."

"Barn swallows." He paused for dramatic effect. "Are more dangerous."

Del joined him to finish it, repeating with him in unison:

"In space."

"Are we done?" she asked.

"I don't know?! Are we?!" Whisker returned, exasperated.

Del's heard this too many times before and wants a change of subject.

"Where are we?"

"Far," Whisker replied. "I've burned hard and changed course enough times, I doubt the transpo will be able to find us."

"Good. Have we heard from Badger?"

"I sent wave the job's done. Haven't heard back yet."

"Uhh, guys. We have a problem." Fram's voice had carried clean across the cargo bay and beckoned his crewmates' attention. Looking down at the pile of love-bots at his feet the problem was evident. "It looks like not everyone made the trip so safely." There, amongst two very pristine looking bots, lay one half gnarled mess of robotics.

" _Gos se._ "

* * *

"Do you think I should even bother with that one?" Fram asked as he removed the last of his hacking hardware from one of the still functioning robots.

The wipe of the two fully intact bots was now finished. No one would be able to track them down over the cortex with their ID tags erased. Sifting through their data was meticulous for Fram, but he didn't mind reading through line after line of coding. It was second language to him after all.

"Do it anyway. No chances," Del responded. "Let me know when it's done." Leaving Fram to finish up, Del trotted up the metal staircase that zigzagged from the cargo bay floor up to the main deck of the ship. The rest of the crew were already in the galley waiting to discuss their options.

"Hey Whisker? Why _are_ barn swallows more dangerous in space?" Iris asked him.

"First of all, there's no perspective," the young pilot began, having no intention of gloating. "Without the ground, or gravity, you can't judge their direction very well or where they are in relation to the ship's doors. Then, I have to catch them in the airlock, which is alot smaller than the cargo bay. So I have to slow down at precisely the right time, or sometimes even fly in reverse, or else it's splat! All over the airlock doors. And I have to do all this from waaay above," now he was gloating, "keeping in mind that they will disappear from my sight 10 seconds before -"

"Alright, alright. You're a better pilot than me. Geez." Iris capitulated. Then she added, " _Ba ni de yinjing fang hui kuzi li_."

"... you asked," Whisker said innocently.

"And now I'm sorry about it."

It was now that their captain entered, acting a little more brightly than she was previously.

"So! Does anyone know where we can get a new, if not slightly used, love-bot?"

After a few moments of silence, it dawned on Jayne that his opportunity had now come. He slowly raised his hand.

"I might. Yeah." The other three crewmen looked at him from across the room, as if waiting for a joke. But no joke came.

"Alright. I'll chance it. ... Where?"

"Not where, who." His audience was immediately irked by his attempt at mystery. "I have someone I need to see first. Take me to 'em."

"Why can't you just send a wave?"

"Nuh-uh. Take me to them." Jayne enunciated emphatically, to make his point. He had leverage. "Now's the time where I get something _I_ _want_." Sensing a standoff, Jayne tried to ease Del's apprehension. "Don't worry, they're close by."

As was becoming a habit whenever Jayne did anything, the room as a whole paused to weigh his character and intentions.

After consideration, Del decided to concede. "Whisker take him to the bridge and set a course." The pair got up to go. "Just so you know Jayne, if this is a wild goose, I will drop you where I see fit. Maybe a blackrock, maybe the middle of an asteroid field, or maybe ... in the middle of space." Jayne took the warning in stride, giving no sign of his intentions one way or th'other.

After they'd gone Iris stepped up to her friend and captain.

"You're still giving him too much trust, _mei-mei_."

"Trust isn't a currency we can afford. Besides, my bigger issue right now is why the Alliance was guarding a set of sexbots."

"And how far will they go to get them back?" Iris added.

* * *

Everyone would be asleep by now, Del thought. She climbed up from her quarters and strolled towards the galley in exhausted silence. Padding softly down the hallway, she noticed, first, the door to Fram's room was still open - he wasn't in it yet. Secondly, peering into the galley directly ahead of her, she saw her newest crew member enjoying the room to himself, feet on the table, and leaning back in his chair precariously far. This was an opportunity she couldn't pass up.

"REAVERS!" she shouted through the doorway. Jayne's entire body panicked as his chair slid out from under him and he collapsed, flat on his back.

"Gorram it!" he exclaimed in a heap on the floor. "What'd you do that for?"

"'Cause it was funny," Del said, lightly. She continued on her mission of a late night snack, retrieving a dry food pouch from the kitchenette. Her quest stopped short when she saw the small stash of clean wrapped solid food spread on the table, in front of Jayne.

"Where'd you get all that?" she asked.

"Found it on the transpo. Want some?" Jayne responded, never looking directly at her. He was never much for sharing. In general, he only gave away what he thought he could get back twice in return. There were a few times of exception. One time he shared a whole barrel's worth of apples. But that was mostly a silent penance for his sins. Maybe that's what he was doing now. Trying to allay some guilt from several years ago.

"What do you want for it?"

"Nothin'. Here." Without a glance, and a little too hard, he tossed her an asteroid bar. Del was too shocked to properly catch it and after a fumble, had to pick it up off the floor.

"Thanks," she said, still in shock. She remained wary of the free deal as she quietly slinked out of the room and back to her bunk.

Before descending down into her quarters she looked back at her "blunt instrument". The large man just took on a small squad of Alliance pros and jettisoned himself into space, without hesitation. This moment right now, though, was the first time she had seen him nervous. It begged the question: Who was he paying a visit?


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The ships vibrations quickly grew into a violent shake as the Firefly broke into upper atmo. After a day and a half's travel, they were now descending right above the coordinates Jayne had supplied. He and Whisker were first joined on the bridge by Iris, who always liked watching the fire through the glass. She and Whisker both held a common delight in seeing the blue and orange flames dissolve into the lush blue and green marble of a world. This time though, the two felt trepidation as they saw Jayne's destination become clear.

"Ohhh. Del is not going to like this," Whisker said.

"Why's that?" Jayne asked.

Iris and Whisker exchanged a knowing look, but neither felt safe explaining within earshot of Del.

"It's complicated-"

They were put on guard by the entrance of the captain herself. She planted one foot, then th'other, firmly inside the bridge door and remained there. It was as if another step would propel her off the bridge and down to the land below.

"Is that ...?" Del intoned.

"Yep," said Iris.

There was a tense silence which Jayne didn't understand. Iris watched her captain carefully, for any sign of irritability. Del did well to hide it on her face.

"Iris. You go with him. If he tries anything -" she looked Jayne directly in the eye, to emphasize her point " - shoot him."

"Will do boss."

* * *

She lingered, calmly, in the atrium. Even at midday, the fresh flowers gave fragrance enough to ease her mind, body, and heart. It was a brief reprieve from the strict atmosphere of the training house. These were the only seconds she was allowed to lose track of time.

"Inara? Are you ready?"

She turned with the demeanor of a coy princess, unphased by the surprise.

"I'll be right there, Shenshen." The young woman left the tranquil seductress for one last moment of solitude.

Inara gazed over the sprawling, delicate hillsides and exhaled a sigh. Then she started into the healing prayer she had taken to reciting these days. Anyone close by would not have heard her whispers, though the slight tremors of her lips would have seduced their attention never the less. As she approached the end of her meditation, she heard it. A familiar sounding engine breaking atmo. She looked up to see the one thing that could make her heart stop on a day like today. A Firefly.

A small hope ignited within her for the briefest of moments. Then, as her rationality took hold once more, the hope extinguished. She knew who would not be on that ship. But she also knew it was no coincidence, that particular Firefly flying into her vicinity. Would it be a long time friend or just a painful reminder? Either way, she would now have to go find out.

She met Shenshen inside the training house before making her excuses to step aside for a moment. Then she rushed down to the gardens, in the hopes of intercepting _whoever_ may be on that ship.

* * *

The walk from the ship wasn't going to be long, but Jayne's uneasiness made the brief walk a pain for him. He tried to fill the silence.

"What's with your captain? Does she have something against companions?"

"It's complicated," Iris said.

Jayne paused with offense. "I'm not as stupid as I look. I might be able to follow."

Iris fought the urge to say "You're exactly as stupid as you look". But she knew that was a little too cruel for this exact moment. She decided to share a little, observing that he wasn't really listening. He was too preoccupied with himself.

"OK. Well, when she was younger, Badger tried settin' her up with the companion guild. He wanted to add a registered companion to his ledger, and Del, well she had no other places to go, so ... Also, if you ask me, he kinda wanted to get both Del and him in a more legal line of business. You know, increase his standing on Persephone. Anyway, that's where I met her the first time. Two people stuck in the same place at the same time. She was kicked from the house after about a year. I was out a year or so later. Something else happened with the two of them after that. I'm not sure what. But the next time I saw her she had a much bigger chip on her shoulder. That's all I really know."

"Huh."

"Huh?" Iris imitated. She hoped her teasing would either calm the fidgety ox or maybe rile him into relieving some of his secrets. He didn't take the bait either way. Instead, his eyes were arrested by the arrival of another at the outskirts of their scene.

As both travelers stopped and looked to the top of next hill, there, at the edge of the training house gardens, they could see a lone, lithe figure. The elegant beauty, Inara. Jayne hadn't seen her in years and was not fully aware of the reception he was about to receive.

Iris had her own reaction.

"Yummmm."

Jayne led the way up the hill - unfortunately. Iris quickly learned to keep her distance as he climbed. While she was sure-footed, Jayne was tripping and falling his way up hill, like a schoolboy. He just couldn't seem to find balance on his approach. He even apologized for a couple of slips.

Finally, the two were standing within a few yards of her.

"Jayne," said Inara sharply.

"Hello, Inara," he returned, nervously. "I bet I'm the last person you thought you'd see again, huh?"

"No." Her pause gave Jayne a brief hope. "I never thought I'd see you again." Truly, he knew that was coming. "How'd you find me?"

"That's what I do, darlin'." Jayne knew that was an immediate mistake. Inara was not someone he would thaw with endearments or reminders of Mal. He tried to cover his mistake. "I'm a tracker. I find people. ... And things."

"What're you doing here?" Inara asked, trying to stay on point to end this visit quickly.

"I found her, Inara. Serenity. I found her again."

"I saw. What're you doing here?"

Sheepishly, Jayne answered. "I'm trying to put things right, 'nara. ... As much as can be."

For the first time, Jayne and Inara held a stare. To her dismay, Inara sees the truth in his eyes. He does want to put things right. It would be easier for her if he didn't. She decided to change the subject.

"Who's that?"

"Hi-i-i."

Iris waved from the background, not trying to disguise any part of herself from Inara's discerning stare. Inara summed her up quickly: another one like Saffron. Except sweeter, more likable. More of an open book. And she's definitely been through a training house.

Realizing that the conversation was going to be longer than she wanted, Inara chose to change the setting to a more concealed location.

"Follow me. We can talk in the grove."

* * *

Del and Whisker plodded down the long staircase to find Fram lying on the couch across from the infirmary. He often ended up here, watching the cortex on his handheld. Clearly, he had fallen asleep here last night, instead of his quarters. Sitting in one of the chairs close by, was the mangled love-bot.

"Fram."

The tech's earwigs were still loudly replaying whatever he was watching when he dozed off, muffling Whisker's voice. He was in deep slumber, enjoying a dream.

"Fram!" Whisker tried again, seeing the same result, or lack thereof.

Finally, Del gave a kick. "Ephram!"

The thud of Del's boot against the couch jolted Fram to life. Yawning, and rubbing the sleep from his left eye, he joined his two friends in the present.

"Did you get that last bot debugged?" Del asked.

"Umm, yeah. But there's something else. Here. Take a look." Fram closed his cortex connection and opened another screen filled, edge to edge, with nonsensical text, numbers, and symbols. He held it out for Del to inspect. Without touching it, Del looked it over.

"Nice," she said, oblivious to what she was seeing. "I like the colors."

"It's encrypted data," Fram informed her. "A massive amount of encrypted data. I've been searching the cortex for hours and all I've really learned is, _this_ encryption is most likely Alliance. Military."

All three paused in acknowledgment.

"So, they were smuggling information in a love-bot?" Whisker asked. "...Yeah. I guess that sounds about stupid for the Alliance."

"Can you break the encryption?"

"I don't know. The only one I know of who has ever done it was Mr. Universe and the whole 'verse knows what happened to him. He's got some "how to's" hidden in deep corners of the cortex, but I haven't found anything really helpful yet."

Hearing this, Del is unsettled at their worsening predicament.

"Keep looking. I want to know what it is we're carrying." With her order standing, Del withdrew back to the upper decks.

Fram returned to his research on the cortex, opening a new recorded feed from Mr. Universe.

"Welcome to 'How to Go Everywhere' Part 4: So You Wanna Get Into an Alliance signal?' First, this feed is for informational purposes only. I do not encourage ... "

* * *

Walking under the apple trees in quiet conversation was not making things easier. Talking to Jayne was even more exhausting than Inara remembered. If this wasn't the time to say goodbye then it needed to get here quick.

"Listen, Jayne. I have no desire to return to ... something that is gone. ... Something that has come to an end."

"I just want-" Jayne began. But Inara was set to end this.

"I know what happened wasn't your fault. Mal made his choice. It's who he was. If you want forgiveness, you've come to the wrong person."

The abrupt coldness from Inara offended Jayne deeply.

"Right. Well ... then ... " But Jayne had no comeback. He could see this was over before it began. The long shot did not pay off. "See you round 'nara," he clipped back at her. His mood now soured, he skulked away, like a mutt dog that had been disciplined for eating a whole pie.

His young escort held in place a minute to take a chance of her own.

"I can see you've lost someone or something important to you," Iris said. Inara was caught in a rare moment of vulnerability with the temptress. "But if you ever want to ... practice again, let me know." With a last look, Iris gave a smile and a soft eye, reflecting the attraction in her body and the warmth in her heart. Then she strolled away, to catch up with Jayne.

Jayne, who was already shaking off the encounter, was hoping his next stop wouldn't be as difficult.

Inara watched them until they were out of sight, then, finally, she calmed herself.

"It's alright now. He's gone. I'll never see him again."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Untethered and floating through space once again, the crew was on edge. They had yet to hear from Badger, which would normally be a bad thing, carrying stolen goods as they were. But, being in need of a replacement for the damaged bot, there was some relief to be had from his silence. Of course, _now_ , they were relying on their newest, unpredictable crew member to deliver a replacement, giving Jayne more control over their fate than any of them were comfortable with.

The main cause for unease, though, was the appearance of the Alliance into this debacle of a job. Hopefully, Fram would be able to get to the root of that mystery. Whisker, meanwhile, was keeping himself busy by painting the hog-mule he had become so attached too.

Iris, feeling a little itchy from being in one place for too long, decided to remain near the training house. A tour of the surrounding towns could yield a few days of play for her. There were always some rich barons, businessmen, or community folk who stayed close to the companion schools in the hopes of getting lucky with a fresh companion. These same marks often didn't realize guilds did not allow trade practices outside their grounds. Someone trained by the guild could make a pretty pinch, especially if they were more inclined to rob their victims rather than sleep with them. So, with Fram's help forging a new guild registry, Iris disembarked from her friends for a few days of sex and thievery.

With several days to reach Jayne's next stop, Del sat at the dining table and found solace in the little things: a little bit of whiskey, and watching the head of her new little geisha doll wobble.

Jayne emerged from his room with a weary purpose. This time it was he who snuck up behind Del.

"Reavers!" he shouted.

Del looked lazily over her shoulder at him, unimpressed. "Reavers don't call themselves by name when they eat you."

Realizing he just got played the fool again Jayne tried to save face.

"Yeah ... well, I've seen more reavers in one day than you have in your entire life." Plodding his heavy feet into the galley, he set down next to Del with his own bottle of sake. Neither he or Del were drunk, but both were a little loose. Del took the opportunity to test Jayne out.

"Be straight with me here, Jayne. I'm unarmed. Tell the truth. Are you really helping us out here?"

"Yes," he said over confidently. The two sized each other up in silence. Even the air in the room seemed to be waiting for one or the other to react.

Finally, Del realized aloud. "Yeah. I'm never going to believe anything you say." Her aloof crewman was unphased by her admission.

"Here."

Jayne tossed a pair of mismatched guns on the table in front of her. Del sat, staring, gaped mouth, lost in puzzlement, until Jayne gave his excuse.

"They're both too small for me. I got no use for 'em. Feels like I'm shooting a kiddie's squirt gun."

Del began examining them with an admiring eye and without touching 'em. The first, slightly larger than the other, was still smaller than Del's current sidearm. A Brooklyn Slocum adaptive. It held a deep gray shine with a rich brown grip. The other, a Le Mat revolver replicant, looked almost shiny new, with an overly ornate pattern engraved on the frame and cylinder. Compared to the large semi-repeater she usually carried, these two guns had a more feminine personality. Even her tomboy nature had to admit, she liked them immediately.

It took a minute for her to find words.

"Uhh ... thanks."

Jayne, his business done, was already up and out of his seat.

"Thank me by holding your own in our next fight. Don't make me _bao_ _hu_ _ni shabi_ all the time." Grumpy, he continued to retreat to his quarters.

Before he was out of earshot, Del called after him.

"What makes you think we'll be in _another_ firefight."

Jayne stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder at her. The sake buzz he had been building only enhanced the humor of her words. He began laughing. Heartily. He didn't stop until he was descending back to his bunk.

This has not made Del feel better.

Her gaze remained fixed on the hallway as Jayne disappeared into his quarters and Whisker emerged from the direction of the cargo bay. He was only slightly covered in paint. He took little notice of her as he too descended to his bunk. After a moment of contemplation, Del decided to skip down a familiar path. She collected her two new guns, left the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table, and went to join Whisker for an evening tumble.

* * *

Touching down in the dark of the early morning hours, Del, Whisker, and Jayne piled on to Whisker's freshly painted four-wheeler and made for their destination. Fram remained behind to continue his fight with the love-bots encrypted data banks and to wait for word from Badger.

It was a short drive on the hog-mule from the Firefly to the tiny patch of scrabble land in the middle of nowhere. The sun slowly rose at their backs as they drove, its light just kissing the faded blue, cramped farmhouse which sat in the middle of the property Jayne had brought them to. The light gave it and them a splash of orange color. Although the house itself looked to be in good upkeep, the yard around it looked like the beginnings of a junkyard, scattered with machine pieces, parts, and a couple shells of dead skiffs or farm equipment. Otherwise, the house was idyllic. Above the door, under a porch light, was a simple handwritten sign with one word written on it. "Welcome"

Whisker trailed up the steps to the farmhouse door, behind his captain, who was behind Jayne. He stared at the sign, mesmerized by it. The handwriting, the style, seemed familiar to him and demanded he pick at it until he could place it.

Jayne rapped his heavy fist on the door a few times, rousing the owner, who had been lightly sleeping close by, awaiting an arrival. The front door sprang open to reveal a simply dressed woman. Her open smile of greeting lit up the doorway until that is, she saw it was not who she was expecting. In fact, it was quite the opposite of who she had wanted to see.

Almost at the same moment, Whisker recognized the handwritten sign. It was a mirror in style and tone for a sign he had found aboard the Firefly. An old dusty sign which he kept in his quarters, not fully understanding its meaning. Involuntarily, he blurted out the word he had seen written on that sign: "Kaylee!"

Surprised at hearing her name, the woman immediately focused on the strangers on her porch.

"Hello Jayne," she said. "Who're your friends?"

* * *

After introductions, it took some time, but eventually, Kaylee thawed a bit. In truth, she was more interested in the new strangers on her porch who might become friends, rather than the old blackguard from her past. While she was thirsty to hear their stories she was forced into playing a measured game of catch up with Jayne.

Kaylee had spent the last several years as a mechanic for hire, fixing and sometimes building farm equipment, ships, skiffs or what have you. Her husband had gone to town last night for an emergency and was expected back this morning. He served as a doctor to the locals. As the dawn grew into sunny morning, Del was the first to notice Kaylee's small belly bump, just grazing the front of her overalls.

Eventually, the conversation turned to matters of business.

"So why are you here?" Kaylee questioned, leaning against the porch railing.

Del spoke up first.

"We're in kind of a bind. A bind, Jayne thinks you can solve." Del was at a loss to understand why a love-bot, of all things, would be out here. On this miniscule farm. With a pregnant woman.

"What's that?" Kaylee asked.

"We need to get our hands on a love-bot."

Kaylee paused and then showed her consternation to Jayne. "You told them they could have her?"

"It's not like it's doing you any good."

Jayne was right, but it still struck Kaylee as wrong. Mr. Universe had wanted her buried with him, like a real wife. Then again, Kaylee reconsidered, burying a robot seemed silly in the first place.

After some time to think, Kaylee eased off. Maybe it would get rid of Jayne faster.

"You'll have to dig her up yourself. I'm not helping. And don't disturb the others. She's on the right side of his marker." Kaylee pointed to a hill and a large tree on the far side of the property. From the porch, Del could just make out three markers. Three graves Jayne helped dig when they moved the bodies of Wash, Book, and Mr. Universe. Kaylee felt that having them close by would make the farm feel more like home. And Zoe wanted to visit Wash without looking over her shoulder for the Alliance.

The awkward conversation of grave robbing was interrupted by the innocent energy of a young girl's voice.

"Kaylee? Have you seen mom's vest? I thought I left it on -". Emma's voice stopped short as she came onto the porch and saw the crowd of strangers gathered there. Strangers, plus Jayne.

Jayne perked up with a new found fear when he recognized her.

"Emma!" he said nervously. "Hey, heyhey. H-How are you, kiddo? Is-is your momma here?"

All on the porch let his self-consciousness settle in.

"Check the back room, sweetie. I washed it last night," Kaylee said, leaving Jayne to squirm a bit longer. Without a word of complaint, Emma ran back inside the house.

"She's big. She's gotten big - Is Zoe here, too?" Jayne said, unable to disguise his urge to run.

"No Jayne. Calm down."

Reappearing on the porch, donning her mother's old vest, Emma shouted her thanks and then bolted up the hill towards her father's grave. Her regular morning visit.

"Be careful. If you tear it again I'm not FIXING IT!" Kaylee shouted after her. "I'm sure she knows I'm lyin', but I like to say it anyways," she admitted to Del.

"So Zoe's not here?" Jayne asked again.

"No Jayne. She's not." Kaylee continued to watch Emma as she ran all the way up the hill. "She dropped Emma off a couple years ago. She sends a wave every once in a while, stops by every now and again. She said she wants Emma to appreciate having a home with real floorboards. But I think ... it's because she reminds her of Wash." Kaylee is almost melancholy watching the young teen. "I see it sometimes, too. Wash. She never met him, but he's in there with her. Somewhere. Every day I see him peeking out a little bit more."

It was right then that Simon appeared from the tree line at the edge of the property, still a good distance from the house. His one time pretty fits looked a little more worn, but still signified his proper manner. He slowed his steps on approach, noticing the porch full of guests. Then, he recognized the large figure in the center of the group: the man they call Jayne.

He came to a full stop. His reaction and his words came slowly.

"... Son of a bitch."

* * *

The rest of the morning was spent digging. Kaylee couldn't help herself. Twice she sent Emma with cool drinks for the three grave robbers, partially as a kindness, but also because she knew kids made Jayne uncomfortable.

After a couple hours work they reached the plastic wrapping containing Lenore. Jayne, doing the heavy lifting, hauled her out of the grave, plopped her down, and peeled back the plastic to inspect her condition. She had spots of dirt and blood, but could easily be cleaned up. Then, hopefully, Fram could reprogram her and this job could be over.

Del and Whisker strapped their buried treasure to the hog-mule and sped off for the Firefly.

Before heading back to the ship, Jayne wanted to mend fences. He made his way back to the farmhouse.

"I've got somethin' for you," he said to Kaylee. He handed her a capture of his offering. Kaylee's heart melted a little seeing the picture of her old home, Serenity, looking a little worse than the last time she saw her. "These kids don't take care of her as good as you."

It wasn't until this moment that Simon and Kaylee realized their old home was just a mile away. It took no effort to convince them to pay a visit.

* * *

Fram was overjoyed at his success. It was the longest time he had spent on one hack but it was paying off. It was paying off exceptionally slowly, but still he was in, and more importantly, his perfect record was intact.

It was then, in the middle of his celebration, that he heard the deep hum of the hog-mule returning. He hurried out to the cargo bay to greet his returning friends.

Whisker was excited with news:

"Whooo boy, you're going to be jealous. You're never going to guess who this baby belonged to," he said, tossing off the plastic sheeting to reveal the older model love-bot. "Can I tell him? Can I? Can I, Can I?"

Del smirked a little herself as she dismounted the hog-mule. Unfortunately for Whisker, Fram recognized Lenore instantly.

"Mr. Universe!"

Whisker was deflated at the correct guess. His fun robbed of him, he retaliated at Fram. "You smell ... and nobody likes you."

Del stepped in as the grown up in the room. "Alright, that's enough. Fram get to work on her programming. Whisker, help get her cleaned up. Any word from Badger?"

"Not yet."

Before Del could completely escape upstairs for a quick drink, Fram had to let her in on his success.

"I've got the first bit of the love-bot's data. A chunk of it anyway. I'm collating it right now. It should be ready shortly."

"Good," is all she said, continuing her hasty retreat upstairs.

In the galley, she found what she was usually thirsty for. She took out a small tumbler and poured a finger's worth of whiskey. She stood looking at it for a long moment, analyzing the new, unfamiliar feeling that was holding her back from taking a drink. She couldn't quite hit on the "why" of her discomfort. Something in that house ... no, in that _home,_ in Simon and Kaylee's home, bothered her.

Before the thought sunk in, she took a drink.

* * *

Kaylee thumbed the peg that once held one end of her hammock. The same hammock which now hung on a tree next to a pile of machine parts beside her faded blue house. She wandered around her old engine room, smoothing her hand over the various panels of cold metal. And it warmed her heart.

Emma paced slowly down the long hallway to the engine room. She had already walked the entirety of the ship twice, reminiscing over the handful of years she remembered being there.

"Hey, sweetie," Kaylee greeted her. "This was always my favorite place on the whole ship. It had the loudest hum when she was movin'. It was soothing." Emma seemed vaguely depressed. Kaylee took it as a cue and thought it best to move things along. "Let's go find Simon."

Traipsing down the rear stairs, they found Jayne mulling around the couches and Simon exiting his old infirmary.

"Well?" Kaylee asked, descending from the final stair.

"Still an infirmary," he said matter of factly. "Engine room?"

"Still a home."

Before the nostalgia was too much for him, Jayne interrupted.

"The whole ship could use your touch Kaylee," he said, tipping his hand. Kaylee and Simon now saw him, trying to restore an old photo which was too faded to see clearly.

"Jayne," Kaylee started, "no one blames you for what happened."

Simon quietly corrected her:

"... Zoe probably does."

"Zoe probably does," Kaylee agreed. "But this... This is over for us. We're happy where we're at." Jayne is crestfallen at her words. "It was nice, though. It was nice of you to let us see her again."

Before Jayne could respond, their reunion was brought to a close by the boisterous entrance of Fram followed by Whisker. They were responding to the incessant beeping of a handheld, lying on the couch. Fram's file was done.

"Alright. Let's see what we have here, Ms. Allaince Bot 1." Everyone in the room gazed at Fram's lack of creativity. Fram, self-conscious, defended himself. "... I fought with this thing for three days straight! That was the cleanest name I can say in front of the little one," he said, indicating Emma.

With a few flicks of his finger, Fram opened a recorded vid feed from the encrypted data cache. The grainy feed was mute, no sound.

"The sound must be in another file," Fram said defensively.

The first images seen are of young children, around Emma's age, strapped to chairs, screaming and crying. Kaylee is the first to realize a young girl shouldn't be watching this.

"Emma, why don't you head back to the house. Simon and I will be right behind you." Zoe's daughter left with surprisingly little fuss.

The group of bandits, hackers, mechanics, doctor, and scoundrel, crowded around the screen to get a closer look. They are witness to a number of decayed images of children being toyed and experimented with.

In a fit of discovery, Simon lunged forward, freezing the screen with his touch. Everyone is left staring at a line of children, 12, 13, maybe 14 years old, force-fed medication. Pointing at a slight figure on the right of the screen Simon speaks:

"There. Right there ... That's River."


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Whisker and Fram were quick to let their captain know what they found. And with a little context colored in by Simon's story of his sister, Del now understood the danger they had onboard.

"We broadwave this right?" Whisker said. He was usually the first person to run to "what was right".

Unfortunately, Fram threw cold water on that pretty quick.

"We have no way of doing that. Aside from the massive amount of equipment it would take, the Allaince has a stronger grip on the cortex these days. Ever since Miranda, the rumor is they have teams of people hunting and killing signals all over the cortex, snuffing out anything that makes them look bad."

Just the mention of Miranda turns the stomachs of all three Serenity crew members. None of them have ever mentioned their role in the Miranda broadwave, and they weren't about to out their secret now.

"I'll need to think," was all Del said as she returned up the stairs of the cargo bay.

Seeing her go, Kaylee and Simon knew it was time for their exit as well. Standing on the cargo ramp, they said their goodbyes with Jayne.

"Well Jayne, it was nice to see you," said Simon, being overly polite as usual, and extending his hand in the same manner. Jayne looked at it and him, then decided against it.

"Yes. Come and see us again," said Kaylee. The two men couldn't tell if she was serious.

"Well, this went better than Inara," said Jayne.

"You saw Inara? How is she?"

"She wasn't in the best of moods."

"Well who could blame her, in her condition," said Simon. Jayne just stared at him, not understanding. "You know, her condition?" With Jayne still not understanding Simon went looking for confirmation. "She's dying ...?"

Kaylee looked at her husband, dumbfounded that he would spill a secret.

"Isn't confidentiality, like, the first rule of being a doctor?" she asked.

"Dying?"

Kaylee secedes, the secret now lost. "She's sick, Jayne. She probably won't see the end of the year." This sinks into Jayne. "Listen, you be careful, whatever you do, where ever you go, OK?" And with a half hug, the couple departs.

As they go, Jayne hears the beginnings of a lover's fight.

"In fairness, confidentiality is like the third rule, behind the Hyppocratic oath and-"

"Really? Semantics? Is that how you think you're going to win this argument?"

"No. ... No, you're right."

* * *

Fram bounded into the galley to find Del and Whisker sitting in silence. It had been nearly a full day since they left atmo over Simon and Kaylee's home, and no clear course of action had been determined. "Wait and see" seemed their only option.

"Lenore's ready. She'll work just like the other two," he said, trying to sound as upbeat as possible. "Of course, none of them have the Alliance Bot's data banks ..." His words trailed off. No one was really paying attention.

Then, as if the 'verse were waiting for its cue, the cortex beeped. Del's intuition guessed their employer was finally ending his silence. She made her way to the bridge, to answer the incoming wave, and to see what's what.

Before she could give greeting, Badger jumped at her:

"Where are you?"

"We're clear." Del knew better than to reveal too much about their situation, especially a location.

"Right, well ... there's a change of plan."

Del immediately knew something was wrong. Not because of the change of plans. Badger changed plans all the time. It was his way of flexing his status over those he thought less of. But to be straightforward, and do it without a single "Cupie" or "little lady", meant Badger was in a tight spot, and eager to get free.

"There's a new plan. I'm sending the coordinates. You'll drop the goods there. Someone will be there to pick them up after you've gone."

"What about payment?" Something was definitely up.

"Yeah..." Badger took a moment to brighten himself up. He didn't want Del sensing anything. "The ship'll be yours. Then you can come see me for the balance."

Not wanting to tip his suspicion, Del agreed.

"Alright, send it along then," she said as Badger ended the wave. It's the first time she can ever recall him doing that first.

The entire crew had gathered to hear the exchange, and now all sat in silence. Jayne was the first to break it.

"Get yer guns."

Del looked at her new advisor, considering all the options, and then agreed.

"Right. We do the job. We'll drop all four bots and let them sort it out. If there's any trouble, we'll be ready for it." The console next to her beeped, receiving Badger's coordinates. "Whisker, plot a course. Everyone else, pick up your feet. And load up."

* * *

In an hour's time the Firefly and her crew were closing in on the drop, a desert on a sparce moon not too close to the rim. It was a clear night as the Firefly's feet extended and reached for the ground.

Fram and Jayne were busy preparing the merchandise for delivery. The bodies of all four love-bots sat, piled on top of Fram's make shift sled, towed behind the hog-muel.

Descending the stairs, Del tells her disappointment.

"Can't we do better than just throwing them together in a pile?"

After a relunctant rearranging, Del is finally happy. In front of her, sitting side by side on the sled, are three clean, fully functional love-bots. Across their lap lay the fourth mangled bot.

"These three look like cannibals," Fram says.

Del only notices it once he points it out.

"Whatever. Let's just get 'em off the ship."

"Touchdown, Lady and gentlemen," came Whisker's voice as the ship jolted to rest.

With the ramp lowered, Fram drove the bundle straight out from the ship onto the desert's sandy, rocky terrain. As Del and Jayne stepped onto the ground behind him, their hopes for a smooth ending were dashed. Appearing above came the noisy engines and bright lights of a rusty transpo ship, blanketing them and the land in white light.

Fram halted as the ship came to rest directly in his path. Opening it's main doors the clunky bus spat forth a flurry of armed men. Jayne and Del recognised some of them as the five soldiers from their previous run in, but they had nearly doubled their number. Even with Whisker now joining the pallaver, Del knew, if this turned ugly, they were out manned and out gunned.

The Alliance captain stood at the spearhead of his posse and looked over his enemies.

"You've made us go a long way to get back what's ours. That's pretty annoying," he said.

Del did not like bullies, but she didn't want to provoke him too much. She chose her words to seem benign.

"Just doing the job we were hired for." The joke was not missed by her crew.

"Right, right. Me too," he said, with a warning in his voice. He took his time to inspect the merchandise. "What's all this?"

"One of the bots had . . . complications. So we replaced it. No harm, no foul."

"I see," says the team leader. The mangled bot in front of him gives the bully enough of a cause as he passes instructions to two of his men. "Bring out the other one." Seconds later, the two return carrying a body, beaten, but breathing. Unfortunately for the thugs, they have miscalculated. This person does not mean as much as they thought it would.

"Ambrose?" Fram says.

Del deduces the situation. They took Ambrose to force Badger to follow through on delivery. They wouldn't be showing what they think is an advantage unless ...

Fram has come to the same conclusions and immediately spins his wheels to tear out and haul ass back to the ship. He is doing his best to give himself cover, spraying half of the Alliance joes with sand and rock. Everyone else, on both sides, draws their weapon and opens fire.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The Alliance joes are good at what they do. In short order they have driven Del and her crew away from the main entrance of the Firefly. Away from their only means of escape in the desert.

Del and Whisker have become pinned behind a boulder that could only provide cover for two as small as them. Meanwhile, Fram and Jayne are clinging to cover behind the hog-muel, which has become stuck in the sandy terrain. The mini platoon of soldiers recognized the advantage the 4 wheeler provided, and tactically removed it from the fight, flattening its tires and injuring its driver. Fram has taken a bullet. And the bleeding is getting worse.

The only advantage of Del's motley group, their saving grace, is that they are separated. Spread apart as she and Whisker are from Jayne and Fram, the Alliance guns can't concentrate on one target. Jayne and Del are trying their best to rotate their shots, keeping the Alliance on their heels. Ultimately, though, the outcome is becoming more certain.

As much as she can, Del is enjoying her recently acquired fire arms. She is faster and more precise with her shooting than before. She even took down one enemy before having to duck behind the shielding rock. The guns provided by Jayne have made her an all around better shot. She's glad that, after they lose this battle, she won't have to admit it to him.

Jayne, from his view, still thinks he can turn the tide of the fight, if he can make it back to the cargo bay doors, and his ace in the hole hiding there. Every time he peeks his head out to make a move, though, a barrage of bullets sends him back under cover.

The opportunities for Del and her crew to return fire are dwindling faster and faster. The amount of firepower, and the precision training of their adversaries is too much. And soon, the larger squad of gunmen feel confident enough in their attack to openly advance on their targets. This is the final push to eliminate their targets.

With their enemies gun fire becoming more overbearing, Del prepares for her last charge as well. She is not thinking about the suicide run she is about to attempt, but instead, of Whisker and the last night they spent together. She would like that to be her last thought.

The 'verse has its own plan sometimes though. It can throw a lifeline in the strangest ways.

The engine roar of another ship emerges from the night sky above the fracas. The ship is blasting all of its forward lights, blinding the Alliance soldiers and freezing them in the open, away from any real cover. From the ship's under belly Del can see an open door with a single, armed gunner, hanging by a safety line, and unloading burning rounds from, what she would describe as, a machine rifle from hell.

The gunner is unleashing a remarkable array. Almost half of the Alliance squad is immediately injured, with two flat dead. The chaos has also now given Jayne his window of opportunity. He takes his chance to get back to the cargo bay and remove his ace from its hiding spot.

Vera. A Callahan full-bore autolock, machine shotgun. His very favorite gun.

He, too, unloads a score of firepower, taking out two more Alliance and injuring their captain. At one fell swoop , the tide has turned.

With their numbers cut in half, and every other fighter now injured, all but one Alliance soldier draw back from their advance, backtracking to their transpo. They're closing up shop to make a run for it. Now receiving their own barrage of enemy fire, the decision is reluctantly made: the team leader has to be left behind, bleeding and out of ammo, on the dusty surface alone.

Del watches them go and breathes a sigh of relief.

With the twisting events finally straightening to a calm, Jayne and Del take a moment to catch up to their last enemy, who is crawling over the bodies of his dead men, looking for any means of defense left behind. The bleeding Alliance commander is stopped, however, hearing the click of an armed gun above his head. Rolling over, he meets a heated sidearm pointed directly at his forehead. Jayne is at the other end of the gun, awaiting an excuse.

"This is a lot of trouble for one robbery," Del says to Jayne.

The bully interrupts their exchange.

"Robbery? Robbery?! You still think this was a robbery, little girl? This was a kidnap and ransom. Your _hwun dan_ of a boss thought he could snatch a rich guy's toys and sell them back to him. Here's news for you: ... he picked the wrong rich guy. And let me tell you something, old man. Before you start thinking that taking me out is a good idea, the next person he sends? They're a reeeal b-"

BLAM

Jayne has heard enough and his gun discharges. No more team leader.

* * *

The smoke of gunfire and dry desert air has blended into a musky odor. The survivors of the scuffle are mostly left accounting their wounds. But the entirety of their situation is not fully understood, yet.

The savior ship, grounded, has released its two occupants, pilot and gunner. Both are clad head to toe in protection from harsh desert climates. The gunman has shed the overpowered machine rifle and is assessing the battlefield. Jayne stands in the middle, celebrating the win.

"Now that's how you have a shootin' contest!" he exclaims.

The gunner has now recognized the loud mouthed merc standing in his own glory, and decides to settle an overdue debt.

A single shot clips Jayne's shoulder. Although only a slight wound, the surprise has pushed the ox off balance, and dropped him to the ground.

"What in the hell -, " are the only words Jayne has a chance to utter before he is staring squarely into the barrel of a gun, now only a few feet away.

"I told you this was comin' Jayne," said a muffled voice. The scarf and goggles around the gunner's head has hidden her identity, but Jayne has now recognized the gun pointed down at him: a mare's leg.

"Zoe."

Zoe takes the time to remove her goggles and scarf. She wants her quarry to see the face of his assassin. The two lock stare with each other.

"Goodbye Jayne."

Before her trigger finger can fulfill its command, though, the dead calm of the desert is fractured by the sound of a desperate voice. A voice that surprises Del, her crew, but most of all Zoe. Inside the Firefly's cargo bay, is a stowaway girl ...

"Mom?"

The war veteran and mother, has become frozen. In the eyes of her daughter, she begins to lose her resolve.

"Emma?"

The killer woman is now caught out in the open herself. Much like the previous melee, the fight within Zoe begins and ends in the span of several breathes. She can't. She can't execute someone in front of her daughter. Not even Jayne.

After a time, she stands down her weapon.

Jayne, only slightly bleeding, realizes he has escaped her wrath, again, and watches carefully as the battle worn mother reunites with her daughter.

"She does not like you," Whisker says to him, trying to lift his weight off the ground. The look on Jayne's face has all the answer Whisker deserves: "No kiddin'?"

Zoe's pilot, in the meantime, has retrieved a damaged, but alive, Ambrose.

"We got what we came for, Zoe. Let's go," he says.

She, however, refuses to break the connection with her daughter.

"I'm not going."

"Badger's not -"

"I'm not going," she repeats, looking him dead in the eye. Although she wasn't aiming her gun, none would have known it by her gaze, or the pilot's reaction.

"Fine," he says, practically dragging Ambrose on board his ship. The two make a hasty exit.

* * *

 **Interlude I**

She crouched down to inspect the leaves for bugs and decay. All of the plants around her were tiny, and delicate. It had taken her nearly a full 3 months to get her garden to this point, and she was not going to let it be ruined by neglect.

Still, seeing the meager patches of growth around her, left her with the knowledge that her talents were not anywhere close to gardening. She would need to learn though, isolated as she was.

Her trips to town were becoming fewer. It was feeling louder and louder each time. Very crowded. Simon would bring supplies with him, but she needed to learn to survive without his protection.

After satisfying her conscience, the young woman tip toed, bare foot, out of the garden and back towards her modest cabin on the hillside. Reaching the door, she stopped still.

In the back of her mind she could feel them. Being surrounded by the open air and trees, instead of ship's metal, or crowds, made it easier to read others further and further away. About a half mile away now.

Kaylee had demanded that the two of them wear hats on their hike, for protection from the overbearing sun. His "lily white" skin would burn on a day like today, she warned. Simon hated it when she described him like that and begrudgingly wore the hat.

Picking out tidbits from his mind, River could see the varied reasons for their visit. They were about to make a trip to retrieve a runaway. But there was something else as well. Something they were going to be relunctant share.

Then River would page through his recent memories and see it. The vid feed of her and her fellow captives being used, tested, and shaped. Captives who became bonded together in direct defiance of the tortures they were subjected too. Friends who were left behind when Simon saved her. Friends she had let slip past her memories for too long.

Friends who needed to be saved too.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

As far as Del was concerned, they couldn't get off the ground quick enough. But she also knew that she couldn't leave her only bargaining chip lying in the desert.

Zoe was doing her best to give aid to her new hosts, offering her experience as a field medic to help Fram.

"Emma. Keep pressure here. Right above the wound," Zoe instructed her daughter. With a careful, firm hand, Zoe removed her scarf and pressed it into the wound on Fram's upper leg. Blood soaked through the frabric, covering her hands. Things were worse than she thought. "It's no good. Let's get him to the infirmary."

The hog-mule was in bad shape too, with three flats and several bullet holes. It was still running, but it was going to need help to get back into the cargo bay. Del started barking orders.

"Whisker, get upstairs and start warming the engines. Jayne! Quit worrying your wound and get the hoist chain. We'll drag the mule back on."

Minutes later the hog-mule, with its sled of bots still attached, was pulled onto the cargo ramp by the mechanical crank. Not wasting a second, Del began closing the cargo ramp with the bots barely inside. As the ramp rose higher, the flat metal plate slid down the ramp, dumping the bullet riddled robot bodies on the cargo bay floor.

"Whisker! We're on. Go!" Del shouted into the intercom.

Whisker, on the bridge, keyed in the final start up sequence with the switches above his head, and ignited the turbines. The Firefly jolted and jarred more than usual at his hands. The need for an urgent departure outweighed smoothness at this particular moment. Jaggedly, the pilot lifted them all into space. He plotted his course away, with no specific destination, and blasted the engine.

Del exchanged a glance with Jayne as she aimed for the infirmary to check on her more seriously injured friend. The irritable look in Jayne's eyes let her know he was going to live.

The captain entered the infirmary in time to catch the last of a conversation.

"Now, please," said Zoe in a sober, motherly voice to Emma. Her order clear, the young teenager grudgingly exited the room to follow her mother's orders.

Fram lay unconscious on the gurney in the center of the room.

"How is he?" Del asked.

"He's stable, I think. Digging the bullet out wasn't easy. He'll need blood."

"I'll add it to the shopping."

The young skipper watched as the stolid woman rinsed her bloodied hands in the sink. Seeing her now, Del understood Jayne's fear. She stood tall and rigid, with a calm, steady demeanor. If she made a decision, it was for a precise purpose all her own. And if that decision was to kill you, she would assuredly find a way to do it, before she died.

"Thank you. For saving him."

"Uh-huh," was all Zoe offered in return.

Del was not one to leave a bear sleeping in her bunk undisturbed. She decided to give a poke, and dive right in.

"So. You wanna kill Jayne?"

This gave Zoe pause.

"Let's just say I owe him," said the avenger.

"Yeah. He strikes me as someone who collects debts."

Zoe turned to meet the conversation.

"Listen, ..." She paused, waiting for Del to fill in the blank.

"... Del."

"Listen to me, Del. That man out there, can't be trusted. He cares only for himself, and serves only himself. You should toss him before you learn that the hard way."

Del can see the sincerity in Zoe's eyes. But she passes over the warning anyway. "So you're not sticking around then?"

Her warning ignored, Zoe moved on. "Emma's calling Simon and Kaylee right now," she said flatly. "There's an old rendezvous we have for these sorts of things. It's not far from here. If it's no trouble."

"Sure. Let my pilot know."

"Thank you," Zoe returned. Thinking the exchange was over, Zoe made move to leave.

Del doesn't know why she chose her next words. They just came out.

"You're right. He's a lying bastard. But he's our lying bastard. So stay the hell away from him." The two women stood their ground, one with the steadiness of experience, the other with the fire and confidence of youth. Neither wanted to give the other the satisfaction of standing aside. They both tacitly agreed to leave the fight there. For now.

Zoe exited up the stairs, on her way to the bridge, and Del returned to the cargo bay. She was now twice mad with Jayne. One, for improving her shooting, and two, for making her his advocate.

"Are you done bleeding yet?"

"I don't-"

"Well hurry up about it. We've got a mess here to fix."

* * *

"Did you reach them?" Zoe asked, stepping into the cramped guests' quarters.

"Yeah. They'll have to go see River, so we might have to wait for them."

"And did you apologize for running off and leaving them to worry?"

"I did," said Emma. Then she added, "But I'm not sorry." The defiant teen was clearly looking for a fight.

Zoe carefully stepped to the shoreline to see where this path was leading.

"Do you have something you want to say?" she asked.

"Why do I have to go back? Why do you care where I'm at?"

And there it was. The beginning of a conversation Zoe was ill prepared for. The first step into rushing water, that wanted to pull both mother and daughter in.

"Because, I'm your mother. It's my job to raise you right, to know what's good and solid, and what isn't."

"How would you know what's good for me anymore?"

The initial shock of her daughter's words knocked the warrior woman off balance. Zoe felt the torrent of the undertow threatening to pull them under.

"Kaylee and Simon are kind folk. But they're not my parents. He's not my father ..." Her words cut deeply. "... and she's not my mother."

Zoe tried to keep them from flowing down river. "Emma, it's best, for now, that you have a stable place to call home. Not straying all over the 'verse. That's what your father wanted for y -"

"No!" Immediately Zoe was looking at a two year old Emma again. "I know what's best for me now. It's you. Where ever that is." Zoe does not have a response ready for this. "If you leave me there again, I'll run again."

Her threat was not meant to scare Zoe, but to force her hand. Whatever her intent, though, Zoe was unprepared for it. "We can talk about it more when - ." Emma, unsatisfied, stormed out, not staying to hear Zoe finish.

Left alone, sitting in silence, Zoe felt Wash's absence heavy beside her. And she could't tell if this break in momentum with her daughter was because they had found respite on a river bank or gone over the falls to crash on the rocks below.

* * *

 **Interlude II**

" . . . You gotta bury them deeper. Especially 'round here. The top soil is so dry and hot . . ." Kaylee was kneeling in the dirt, digging up bulbs and burying them deeper. River and Simon stood off to the side of the garden, out of the farm girl's way.

River was counting the minutes as patiently as she could. They had arrived thirteen minutes ago and they were still making pleasantries. Neither Kaylee or Simon had asked about what they came for.

"I'm afraid we city kids are poor gardening students," Simon said.

"They need a cool, damp place to take hold," Kaylee continued, standing to dust off her hands. "If we get you a longer hose for your rain barrel, we can run in it under the ground and keep the bed soil wet-"

"We need to fix the G-line," River interrupted.

Simon was baffled by her outburst. Kaylee understood what her friend was saying immediately. But she didn't know River's reasons, though.

River tried to help her brother catch up:

"I know, ... ya know."

" _Mei-mei_ , I don't understa-"

"I know ... what you gave up. How many times others warned you to turn back ... but you didn't. For me. ... I know that dad ... I know he told you. He doesn't want us back. I see it ... like a book. In here." River placed a hand on the side of Simon's head. "And in here." She touched her own head. "And in here." She put her hand over her brother's heart. "I was lucky. ... I had a brother ... a brother who came for me. Those ones that you saw ... the ones that survived ... They're still there. Don't they deserve ... someone to come for them?"

River knew almost instantly that her decision had become clear in their minds. She was decided. The three of them would be leaving together.

But first, there's newly discovered repairs to make. That meant someone was going to have to go back to the house ...

* * *

Simon reappeared at the head of the trail, huffing, nearly out of breath. Over his shoulder was the bag of tools and small parts Kaylee had sent him back for. She and River had spent the time of his absence relaxing and laughing on the porch.

"Well howdy stranger. Long time no see," Kaylee chided him.

It had taken a few hours for him to scale down the foothills, get the parts, and then return. He ran as much as he could.

"Did you get everything?"

"... yes ...", he said between breathes.

"Alright then. Let's get this puppy back in the air."

Hiking to the rear side of the cabin, the three travelers each silently delighted in their upcoming task. Kaylee undid its tie-downs, while River pulled back the large sheeting to reveal their ship. The mechanic's smile broadened. It had been a while but the old ship still held a shine. Inara always took better care of her shuttle than Mal did the rest of Serenity. And he loved Serenity.

"So ... G line huh?" Kaylee said. "Gimme about 30 minutes and we'll be flyin' in no time."


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The moment the Firefly's feet reached the ground, Jayne opened the cargo bay doors. Some of the crew may not have liked the feeling of solid ground, but fresh atmo was always preferable to the air recycler. And a little natural light might also make the clean up chores go quick.

Jayne paused to watch the sunlight fill the bay as the cargo ramp lowered to the ground, then went back to his job. He hefted another tire off the hog-mule and rolled it into the center of the cargo bay to begin the next patch. The first tire had taken three patches before being able to hold air again. He had hope the second would take less effort.

Whisker noted his progress as he made his way from the bridge, past Jayne in the cargo bay, on the way to the infirmary. He strolled in to give a progress report to Del, who just finished her donation of blood for Fram's recovery.

"Touchdown. It's a sunny morning, for those who like such things."

Del was brooding, and not in the mood for pleasantries. "Did you send a wave to Iris?"

"I did. I told her 'the usual'. She should be here by day's end."

"Tell her to double it. The run in with the Alliance has left us scarce. I'm on my last clip." The drained captain sighed, showing the first signs of exhaustion. She wistfully looked at her unconscious crewman on the gurney. "This job is becoming more costly all the time."

The two were interrupted by Zoe, and her daughter.

"We're off. Thank you. For the ride." Zoe's tone did not reflect her words.

"Sure. Anytime." Del lied in return. The two shared a look of challenge against the other's authority. Whisker sensed a dangerous spark between the two. Del, too, felt the adversarial tension, and decided to verify the threat got off her boat. She followed Zoe into the cargo bay, from a safe distance.

"Who was that?" a weary Fram said, rousing. Whisker felt a moment of relief, seeing his friend healthy and awake.

Standing just inside the cargo bay, Del watched as Zoe and Jayne shared a sideways glare, like two animals hunting each other. Neither made a move to incite the other but both were on the brink of attack.

Despite the combative mood, mother and daughter were able to make a safe exit from the ship, and the two began walking up the slope of the shallow valley Whisker had set them in. The brightness of the morning sun kept them blinded as they walked away from their old home. And it's because of the sun that they heard the ship blocking their path before they saw it drop out of the sky. Emma felt immediate fear.

"Mom. That doesn't look like - "

Before she could finish her sentence, Zoe was giving orders and drawing her gun.

"Emma. Get back to the ship. Run! Now!" Emma followed her mother's instructions, as the older woman began firing at the crowd emerging from the rancid boil landing in front of her. She fired her last three shots then turned to make her getaway as well.

Whisker had just informed Del and Jayne of Fram's recovery when a frightened Emma burst into view and charged up the cargo ramp at them. Before any could guess her motives Zoe, too, appeared at the cargo ship's entrance, screaming the most frightful word:

"REAVERS!"

* * *

Two steps into the cargo bay, Zoe stopped long enough to close the cargo bay doors and then proceeded further into the safety of the ship, finally turning and crouching in defense. As the ramp began to raise, three monsters appearred at the entrance, and jumped aboard. Zoe met the first with a boot heal square to the jaw, dropping him immediately. The second made a direct chase for Emma but was stopped by Jayne's sharp elbow. The third maniac paused briefly at the top of the closing ramp. With a remarkable precision, he withdrew a knife from his leg and cut the main hydraulic hose.

Zoe, Del, Whisker and Jayne watched in horror as the cargo bay door lost power and collapsed, with a loud thud, back to the ground. The ship was now left gaping. They were open, vulnerable to any and all. The gnarling foaming noise of reavers grew louder and louder outside the ship. There was about to be far more than three monsters aboard.

Del jumped into action.

"Fall back to the infirmary!" Whisker was in motion before her next order came out. "Whisker, seal off the upper decks!"

Jayne drew his sidearm only to find it empty. As Zoe made her retreat, Jayne tossed his empty weapon at the advancing reaver on her trail. A square hit to its face was enough to slow it down and allow Zoe and her daughter to make it through the door at the rear of the cargo bay.

Del pulled her only loaded weapon and began firing at the three intruders. Head shots put each of them down permanently. But her troubles quickly multiplied. A raving, hungry mob emerged at the cargo bay's entrance, hell bent on rape, murder, and mutilation.

Whisker reached the top of the catwalk just as the swarm entered the ship. "Alright," he thought to himself, "I just have to make it the length of the cargo bay before any reavers make it up the stairs in front of me." As if reading his thoughts, four reavers began scrambling up to meet him. He took off at a dead sprint, drawing his gun as he ran.

Below him, his crew mates were back pedaling in a panic. Del unloaded her last clip as Jayne made it through the rear hatch to safety. Before she turned to join him she felt a firm hand yank her backwards through the door. She was surprised to find Zoe on the other end of her rescue.

"Emma! The door!" her mother commanded. Emma slammed the door shut and Jayne sealed and locked it from inside, giving them all a measure of safety. The reavers unleashed their anger and frustration by shattering the hatch's view window. Their gnarls and screams grew louder, and more violent as the mass of beasts raged on inside the cargo bay.

Whisker, still on the catwalk over the bay, fired his one and only bullet, hitting the reaver accelerating towards him in the chest. He followed his shot with a kick to his victim's stomach, sending the reaver backwards, down the staircase, hindering those following. He had time for one last glance at the cargo bay below as it filled with cannibals and rapists, then he bolted up the last set of stairs and sealed the door behind him. He too, was safe. For the moment.

The reavers were not deterred by the sealed hatches. They attacked the doors and walls of the ship with a mad gusto, slowly damaging and eroding the seals and locks. Given enough time the reavers were going to overpower the bulkheads and get at their prey.

Del bolted up the back stairs on her way to the bridge. Zoe instinctively followed, close on her heels.

Arriving next to Whisker on the bridge, Del started looking for options.

"Can we break atmo, suck them all into space?" she asked her pilot.

"With cargo ramp dangling open - we'd probably cook the whole ship. Including ourselves. And -" Before Whisker could make his next point Zoe offered her secondary advice.

"What if we just got high enough to dump them from the sky?"

"I don't know. There are some vital areas in the cargo bay. If they know how to cut open the cargo ramp, imagine if they decided to cut power while we're in the air? We'd all come falling out of the sky."

Before the desperation of being trapped could set in, the rampaging hellions began spewing out of the Firefly, back onto the valley floor. They had been drawn back outside.

The three humans on the Firefly's bridge also had their attention drawn outside. Their was a growing sound filling the valley. The sound of another ship approaching.

* * *

"They're still alive," River said, reassuring her brother and Kaylee. The sight of a reaver ship and the defenseless, yawning Firefly left little hope for her two passengers.

The warm fuzz from their shuttle's thrusters drew the attention of the marauders inside the victim ship. Almost all of them emerged outside to investigate the noise.

"What are we going to do?" asked an innocent Kaylee.

River already had a plan of action.

"Strap in. Simon sit here." She gestured to the co-pilot's seat next to her, as all three buckled in for safety. "I'm going to need your help. The nose is going to want to dip. I need your help to pull back on the yoke to keep it from going into the ground."

Simon didn't fully understand. "Wait. What - "

Before he could ask his question, River began her attack. Simon looked through the glass just in time to see the nose of the shuttle cutting into the center of the crowd of reavers. Blood splattered and bones broke as bodies were felt, and heard, bouncing off the hull. River did her best to swerve the ship sideways, to make contact with as many of the rabid animals as possible. Those not shattered by the shuttle's mass were left scorched by its engines. The weaponless shuttle had become a flaming cudgel itself.

The gambit paid off. With one pass River had decimated nearly the entire throng of reavers.

Simon instinctively grabbed the yoke in front of him as the brother and sister attempted to keep the shuttle in the air.

Eventually, though, the weight is too strong and the ship is pulled down into the dirt. Their losing effort, however, was still enough to keep the ship from total destruction. They come to a ringing stop, suffering only minor damage.

Watching from the Firefly's bridge, Del can't believe their fortune. Turning to Zoe, the two have a shared moment of success.

"Shiny."

* * *

Jayne removed his knife from the head of the last reaver and then cleaned the blade with two quick swipes across the torn clothes on its back.

"What are reavers doing here this time of year? This isn't their normal hunting ground," Whisker noted.

The surviving members of Serenity's crew secretly knew the answer but did not offer their insight. Ever since Miranda, their 'normal hunting ground' had been disrupted. They no longer stayed close to home. They roamed far afield with no centralized collection graveyard. Maybe some couldn't find their way back through space to Miranda, or maybe they were all more bloodthirsty since the battle with the Alliance. Whatever the reason, their numbers were now wildly scattered throughout the 'verse. They could appear almost anywhere at anytime.

"We need to get out of here. More will be coming. Will your shuttle still fly?" Del asked Simon and Kaylee.

Before either had a chance to respond, River answered. "We can. But we'll need help to dig the nose out of the dirt. Kaylee should fix your hydraulics." Del was stunned at River's knowledge of their troubles. "I know a place we can go, close by, where the Reavers won't follow," River continued. "You're not going to like it," she ended, talking to Zoe.

Del fore went her usual umbrage at River's authority. The young woman did not snap orders like a commander. The urgency of their condition demanded speed and clarity. Also, River's kinder intentions always bled through her words.

As everyone scattered to work, Del paused for a comment to Jayne.

"That's the second of your 'old friends' that has saved us. I'm startin' to like them. Does she want to kill you too?" Jayne gave no reply, just a grumble of disapproval.

With a hectic pace, both ships were readied for flight and launched, the small shuttle taking the lead towards their destination. As they approached their new haven, River sought to explain their safety to Zoe.

"The reavers won't come here. It smells too much like death. They don't like that." Zoe understood, but was still coldly unpleasant as they came in for landing.

"What is this place?" asked Kaylee.

After a long, stoic silence, Zoe informed her.

"Serenity Valley."


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

With a brief reprieve from their burdens, the two Firefly crews breathed deeply for the next several hours, trying to catch their breath.

Kaylee and Whisker immediately set about repairing the Firefly's cargo ramp. Replacing the slashed hose was easy enough for the two mechanics, however, Whisker was at a loss to replace the hydraulic fluid spilt during the reavers' attack. Luckily, Kaylee had a temporary solution, a homemade fluid concoction which would allow them to at least lift the ramp closed for space flight.

An injured Fram was able to partially rejoin his friends, moving around the ship with the help of a makeshift crutch. The hog-mule was restored to working order, through his efforts, although it still showed the wounds from their previous battle, as well as the ravages of reavers. After a couple hours of repairs to both ships, the younger crew was also reunited with their vagabond mistress, Iris. She brought with her some coin, racy stories, and desperately needed supplies. Not the least of which was ammunition.

By midday, as the two crews prepared to part ways, River's arrival was finally explained to all present.

Simon did most all of the talking on her behalf. River spent much of her time discerning and learning the new voices she was now encountering. Without the ability to turn off her reading mind, it took a concentrated effort to sift through all of the new thoughts and memory books open to her.

Simon laid out his sister's intentions to the blended crowd in front of him as cleanly and mathematically as he could. The two of them, Simon and River, had made a miscalculation so many years ago, leaving others behind in the wake of River's escape. Though not an intentional error, River still felt the burden to correct the way of things. ...The young witch had a purpose in front of her, a target to hit. And she wanted help.

"You want to go in and get them out?" Whisker asked. "How can you be sure they're still there?"

"She's sure," came Simon's response. His confident voice gave a better answer than his words.

The room was given pause. Then Del spoke up.

"A full-on, straight ahead assault wouldn't be any good. Sounds like you'd need a small group - sneak in, sneak out." River quietly nodded her agreement. She had read Del's answer before she said it out loud.

With the circumstances now laid bare, River began a survey for volunteers. A quick read of the group's minds showed little results. Ironically, the only sure answer she read was from Jayne.

In the more than a decade since the events of Miranda, Jayne had become an old handed criminal, the rarest kind. Although he never gained the book smarts that many career rogues leveraged into a long life, he had gained other unique educations which kept the aged ruffian alive and fed. One of the most unpredictable learnings he acquired was during his time on Serenity, in the presence of her now dead captain. The years spent alongside captain Malcolm Reynolds of the Firefly: Serenity, had left an indelible mark on him and created a thin layer of heroism. It was a layer which remained largely hidden from view, buried deep beneath his ruthless love of coin, gunplay, and women. However, when matched with the burden of his sins, Jayne often sprang into surprisingly noble actions. River was one of the few who had witnessed this first hand. As for the sin which most motivated him to River's aid this time? Perhaps Jayne didn't even realize the amount of guilt he felt for Mal's death.

Simon and Kaylee were sure to want to come along, but River knew she would have to talk them down. She was not as young and fragile as she once was when Simon first found her. Not only could she do this better without his overwatch, but it was time for Simon's protection to be shifted to Kaylee and their unborn baby.

As for the others present, River was unclear on who else may join her. They would all need some time to weigh their choice.

Del was the most indecisive. Some part of her was holding still, not wanting to step forward. Yet another part of her was itchy for this opportunity.

* * *

"Fancy a drink?"

Zoe lifted her head. She had been sitting alone in the common area for most of an hour, in a fight with herself. Standing in front of her was the ship's current captain, looking a little more relaxed since their last head to head. Del held a partially drank pint of whiskey in one hand, and two glasses in the other. The encounter with the reavers, and now River and Simon's request had softened her perspective on the warrior woman, and mother.

"Are you sure you want to drink with a murderess to be?" Zoe said, citing her objective towards Jayne.

"I've gotten drunk with worse."

Zoe weighed the moment before finally indicating the seat next to her. Del plopped into the chair and poured two small shots to get them started.

"What are we going to drink to?"

Del had a moment of inspiration. "To ... murderess-es." Zoe gathered the information just shared as the two of them swallowed their drinks whole.

Del immediately poured a second shot. "Now you."

Zoe thought slowly. The first drink had already eased her mood. "To ... women Firefly captains." Del, a little unsure of what information Zoe was sharing, held her drink a moment. "Don't worry. I'm not here to take her back."

"Good," Del said, as they downed the second drink. "... Or I'd have to murder you." They both lightly laughed, as Del poured another drink.

* * *

Several years earlier ...

"I don't care what Mal says. I'm never comin' anywhere near Ariel again...," Jayne said, firing five more shots and continuing his complaint, "... space station or not."

River, having gotten ahead of him, incapacitated two more guards on her way to the airlock.

"Get yer helmet on!" Jayne shouted as he fired his last rounds at their followers. "No amount of coin is worth this _tzao_ _gao_."

Fastening her helmet tightly to her spacesuit, River approached the airlock door, readying for their retreat. Her anxious poise is interrupted by the sounds of alarms blaring. Their presence has finally alerted the whole of the Alliance space station. The lockdown security measures are quickly enclosing the whole floating complex. In front of her, the main airlock hatch has begun its steady cross-path to seal closed. In a moment both her and Jayne will be trapped inside the station with Alliance guards.

Turning to her partner, River sees too late that Jayne has not followed his own instructions. His helmet is still not on and is far from reach. The pair look at each other in desperation, each doing their own calculation of the situation. Jayne makes a decision before the thought forms in his head.

"No wait-" is all River can say before she feels Jayne's boot in her abdomen. His kick propels River through the airlock door.

Alone in the airlock, the young woman gets to her feet in time to see the doors clench shut, and lock. Looking through the glass, River watches in defeat as Jayne is set upon by a squad of Alliance guards. A few, futile fists against the airlock door confirm to River its impenetrable security. With no options left, she opens the outer door and escapes into space.

* * *

Drink in hand, Zoe quietly watched the Alliance vid play out in front of her. Del, too, quietly sat, sipping her drink, gauging Zoe's reaction.

The images of children being poked, prodded, drugged, and pushed to mental and physical extremes, struck the single mother. She can not help but recall the Miranda broadwave.

"The Alliance is a collection of sick _hwun dan_. That's nothing new." Her tone was somber.

"True. Very true," a slightly inebriated Del responded. "But what does one do when they see this information? What do you do - as a mother - when you see this?"

The younger woman's words are starting to get to Zoe. And with the drink fogging her mind, Zoe let's Del in a little.

"Listen carefully to me ... to this. Because I've done it. I've gone up against the Alliance, twice, so listen when I tell you: If you decide to fight, be prepared to lose. Badly. Even if you win. You better be willing to sacrifice anyone on this boat, because believe me, it's never you that dies. It's always the one next to you." Zoe can see she has landed her warning. "Can you live with that?"

The power of her words sobers Del up profoundly. She has no response, and so sits, contemplative.

After a time, she treads in lightly once again:

"Twice huh? ... How'd you do?"

Zoe answered with the logic of alcohol.

"Eh. 1 and 1. ... But I lost both times."

* * *

The following morning was decision time. Zoe, being keenly reminded of her losses, made plans for her and Emma to return with Simon and Kaylee.

Del had made her decision as well and was spreading the word around the ship. First, with a quiet conversation with her old friends.

"Whisk, I want you to take Zoe and the rest back to their homestead in the Firefly. Take Iris ... and Fram, too. His leg won't be any good if we're in a fight." Fram's injured leg left him no room to argue. Whisker, though, was not so easily deterred.

"I'm not leaving you to this alone."

"I'm sorry Whisker. I can't have you there," she said, recalling Zoe's haunting caution. "Don't worry. I'll have Jayne there. If anyone needs to take a bullet, he's been voted most likely to ... It's nearly unanimous."

"But - "

"Whisker," Del calmed him, "I'll come back. I promise." This is the closest Del has ever come to acknowledging their bond publicly. Whisker takes that as a prize and gives up the fight.

Within the hour the two ships were set to go their separate ways. Zoe offered one last bit of advice to the young captain.

"You really should name her," she said. Del was a little lost. "Your ship. It needs a name. Something that means something to you. That would make her a true home. Someplace you'll be happy to see again."

This small, tacit implication of confidence in their mission bolstered Del's state.

"I'll think about it," she answered.

And with that, Del, Jayne, and River made for River's shuttle.

River was the only one unsurprised to find Iris waiting for them there, trying to figure out the shuttle's start sequence from the pilot's seat.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked Del.

"I'm doin' what I want, when I want, _mei_ - _mei_. Do you have a problem with that?" Iris challenged.

Del could only smirk her answer. Iris always went her own way. Mostly, she just decided to agree with Del's plans rather than follow an order. But not this time.

Jayne surveyed the ship's occupants as he began dismantling his firearm for cleaning.

"So now it's me and 3 girls?" he worried aloud. "This job's just getting better all the time."

None could tell if he was trying to lighten the mood, but Del had a response either way.

"What can I tell you, Jayne. It's a women's 'verse now."

 **Interlude III**

Several years earlier, minus a'couple hours ...

"Zoe, he knows everything," Mal insisted. "Our aliases, where to find us, our friends, where we go for work, for play, to hide ... If we leave him in Alliance hands, this whole thing, Serenity ... its over."

"He's shown his true colors enough times, is all I'm saying," Zoe gave back. "He would just as soon leave you there if it suited him. Or any of us for that matter!"

"Mom?" A young Emma has awoken to the sounds of an argument in the hallway above her, and climbed up to see what's happening.

"It's OK honey. Go back to bed. I'll be down in a moment." Zoe pushed Emma off to bed then returned to her captain. "No man left behind doesn't always mean everyone is worth saving."

After a moment of thought Mal knows his answer:

"Who said we were going to save him."


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Jayne stepped defiantly, oafish-ly, out in front of his female partners, pretending the role of leader. Both River and Del cautiously remained in the shadows of the trees while he stood just beyond the cover of leafy branches. As a group, though, they peered through the crumbling fence at the group of buildings on the other side. Every one of Jayne's senses confirmed his tracker's intuition.

The dilapidated buildings looked a grayish blue in the moonlight. The faded and cracked paint encased the entire complex in a decayed shell. The signage which once stood authoritatively on the top floor didn't spell full words anymore, only "Blu- S-". There were no outward signs of occupancy. What few windows there were held broken glass fragments or missing panes. Vines of ivy had snaked their way along several exterior walls, covering whole corners of two nearby structures. It would be safe to guess no one had been here in years. It would be a wrong assumption, never the less.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?" Del asked.

"They're here," came River's positive reply. It had occurred to her, as they made their secretive approach, that she had never seen her internment from the outside looking in. As she now looked at the dull cluster of dying structures she could see herself standing on the other side of the fence ...

More than a decade ago ...

* * *

River removed her last delicate canvas slipper and carefully set her foot deep into the crisp blades of grass. She had been at the academy for almost two months now but this was the first chance she had to step outside and feel the land under her toes. In all her excitement of meeting new friends and new challenges at her new school, she had never imagined how claustrophobic the sterile classrooms and dormitories would be. Suffocating wasn't the right word she would use to describe it. Restricting maybe? Or chaffing?

After a few deep breaths and a wriggling of her feet against the greenery, the fatigued young girl lifted her head towards the sun. Closing her eyes, she bathed in the warm hug of a bright afternoon. The dull hum of insect life, though far away, was faintly ringing in her ears. And the smell of the reedy forest was blown into her senses by the gentle breeze.

Feeling refreshed and relaxed again, River lowered her smiling face level with the landscape in front of her. She stared languidly straight out across the lawn and directly at the fence and the patchy forest trees beyond it. The Blue Sun sponsored institute was at her back and out of sight for the moment.

This was the first time she had really looked at the metallic posts and railings that outlined the grounds. It struck her how unnatural and intimidating they were. Not only were there a number sweeping scanning beams pulsing from post to post, but the rails of each section were set so close together not even a rabbit could squeak through easily. And the whole structure extended much higher than a normal seclusion fence, maybe ten or twelve feet in the air.

River wondered why so much security was needed. What were they trying to keep out? The question brought an immediate response which gave her the first feelings of unease since arriving. Maybe they weren't built to keep something out. Maybe they were built to keep the students i-

"River?"

Her train of thought was interrupted by the appearance of the thin, slightly balding man who always kept his hands in his pockets.

"Are you enjoying the fresh air?"

His sharp tone coupled with his measured pace repeated his usual outward appearance of composure but still left his words sounding somewhat accusatory. He didn't seem to approve of River deviating from the strict schedule set for her.

"Yes," is all she would say in return.

"Well, why don't we get back on course," he suggested somewhat sternly.

Looking past him River could see their conversation was being watched by the balding man's partner, a tall ginger haired man. He always kept his hands in his pockets too.

* * *

" _Wei._ "

The urgency of Del's voice jolted River back to her present company and away from the past events in her brain. She had not retraced that memory for a long time.

"Which way?" Del pressed. "Do we climb?"

"No," River said simply. Stepping around her two companions she began a somber, silent trek along the edge of the fenceline, running her hand along an occasional rail as she went. The act did not seem playful so much as a want for tactile affirmation of where she was. It was as though the rusted metal slats were lightly whispering to her fingertips: _huanying._ Welcome back. Del and Jayne followed after her.

It was Jayne's sharp night vision which first spotted their luck. A rotted tree had fallen across the border, about fifty yards ahead of them, taking down a post and all the rails it had been supporting. An easy spot for infiltration.

River skipped over the crumpled fence and blackened log in one seemingly weightless hop. Then she skimmed smoothly through the tall grass which filled the lawn between the perimeter and the closest building. The over waist high stalks slowed her companions who wished to remain silent as possible. River, though, made no noise as she darted through the field. Her agility was as keen as ever.

Finally reaching her destination up close, she stood staring, as if trying to comprehend a puzzle. She had expected the large obelisk of a building to radiate a warm buzz. Instead, she was met with cold silence. She extended her hand and lay it flat against the industrial wall to confirm.

It was only a brief minute before Jayne and Del caught up to her.

"Don't go moon brained now, girl," Jayne quipped as he passed her. "This is s'posed to be a quick in and out. 'member?"

It was now River's turn to follow as Del and Jayne skirted the building's wall, finally coming to an open, empty doorway. Peering inside revealed more of the same broken conditions which were so evident from the outside. The entire innards of the complex were worn from age, neglect, and the harshness of the elements. The two armed prowlers were starting to have growing doubts about their purpose here, and River's sanity.

River bypassed the two of them and stepped through the doorway purposedly. The thud of her boot against the floor stood as a stark difference to the sound her bare feet made on the same cold floors ...

More than a decade ago ...

* * *

The balls of her bare feet made a light clacking noise as she stumbled down the hall, occasionally leaning against a wall for support. River hated the sticky feel of the cold, dead pavement against her soles, but it was the best way to remain undetected as she lurked about at night.

Her headaches had been getting worse over the last week in particular. The flat, white walls of the institute seemed to create an insurmountable weight and pressure which squeezed her head from all sides. A few moments outside, she thought, with the grass and trees around her, could do more to help her than the medications provided by the academy's infirmary. And now, she was almost there.

"What are you doing wandering around at night?"

She had come to know the voice well over the past several months. The tall one.

"I wanted to see the stars," River said innocently. The slack on her face and the wavy tone in her voice betrayed the pangs shooting through her temple. The tall one took note.

"We should get you back in bed," he said, stepping closer in River's direction.

It was unclear if his step instigated what happened next, or if it was just a coincidence of timing, but the pain in River's head finally shattered something inside her. She was sent to the floor clutching her head. The hallway, the building, the grassy field, the forest, the whole of the moon itself could be felt spinning and swirling in her head and in her stomach. Propping herself up to one hand River could barely focus on the droplets of red falling from the tip of her nose. She couldn't even make out the pool of blood forming on the concrete floor underneath her.

Immediately River felt the rubber hands of the two nightmare caregivers gripping her arms as they lifted her off the floor. Her head sagging under the weight of pain she began drifting in and out of consciousness. She heard only bits and pieces.

" ... into surgery ..."

"... downstairs ..."

"... Dr. Mathias ..."

"... brain ..."

* * *

"I think this is the end of the line, little one," Jayne said. "There's nothing here."

"No," River softly corrected him. "Now we go down." She was not looking at him as she spoke, but rather at the door to the lower levels. The door that had always remained bolted shut during her original stay here but was now lying on its side, having fallen loose from its jamb.

The stairwell was dark, and smelled of stale air and decaying, dead animals. Jayne's reluctance was growing steadier at the thought of wading through the pitch black stairway shaft, but never the less, he continued. He too was searching for something in the dark. Something less tangible than what his company might expect.

Ten floors below the surface, the invading party found the first signs that maybe River was right. Although the stairs continued down deeper into the blackness, a sheer, steel door, clean, and bright, like it was new, stood out like a beacon among the dirty, dull walls. There were no handles or doorknobs about it, and any sort of access pad next to the door had been covered with a flat metal plate as well. It was a puzzle of sorts.

Del slid her hand first across the smoothed door, confirming its solidarity, then across the metal of the plate against the wall. It too was unyielding to her touch.

"If this is the place, I'm not sure we have many choices here," Del said, signaling her willingness to retreat. "I don't see a way in."

Instinctively, River floated forward, extending her hand to faintly graze the metal plate herself. This was more like the warm buzz she had been expecting. With only the slightest of sound, the metal door reacted to her touch and popped open.

Where once their path along the stairs was covered in black, now a strip of diffused light from behind the door beckoned the three of them onward. Jayne and Del readied their weapons and proceeded in. River entered as well, at a slower pace.

Jayne and Del immediately spaced themselves out to investigate their new surroundings, stalking carefully, quietly. The buzzing fluorescent lights overhead indicated the presence of occupants. The tangle of corridors, hallways, and doors implied a maze which it would become easy to get lost in. Both of the armed sneaks were eager to turn the lead back over to River.

"Which way?" Del asked. When she didn't hear a response she turned to ask their guide again. She was confounded to discover an empty hallway.

River was gone.

 **Interlude IV**

Several years earlier, minus a day . . .

The door to the shuttle snapped open. A bloody, bruised Jayne hung by one arm, draped over Mal's left shoulder. The lummox was barely able to move his legs in pace with his captain, and thus Mal was doing the bulk of the work for both of them.

The two struggled through the narrow doorway, with Mal exerting nearly the last of his strength to push Jayne in first. The guns in Mal's hands are smoking hot from overuse. After an extended firefight, both Mal and the weapons are spent. But while the firearms have the luxury of lying idly on the floor to cool, Mal knows he still has work to do. Having collapsed beside Jayne, he picks himself up in a near panic. Luckily, his last bullet had ended the life of their final pursuer. He has bought them some leeway before the next wave of guards would arrive.

The bolt of impact against the shuttle floor has emboldened Jayne to regain a semblance of focus, and now he has the urge to talk to his captain. He feels the need to defend himself.

"I didn't ... I didn't ... "

"What's that," Mal said, not really paying attention.

"I wouldn't ... tell that _hwun dan_ ... a damn thing."

"I know. You said that earlier." Jayne's concussion is causing him to repeat himself. Mal already knows Jayne somehow found his way to come through for ship and crew. Although, right now, he kind of wishes he hadn't. He would have much rather had a reason to kill Jayne rather than save him. "When did you become so noble, anyway, huh?" He is desperate to ready the ship for flight, sealing the shuttle door behind them and rushing for the pilot's seat.

"I learned ... heheheh ... I learned it from you." Jayne laughed at the old joke as Mal sat down behind the shuttle's yoke and began flicking switches for the ignition sequence.

"Uh-huh. Well, just for the record. You picked a shitty time to be a good guy." He is now pulling double duty, frantically trying to start the engines while also keeping his loyal dog talking and awake.

"No more ... no more ..."

"Huh? What is it, buddy? I can't hear you. Speak up."

"No more ... Ariel." With an explosive roar, the shuttle's powerful engines spurted to life.

Before lifting off and rocketing forward, Mal confirmed Jayne's demand under his breath.

"You got that right."


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"Where the hell'd she go?!" Del asked the thin air, exasperated.

Jayne could only sneer. "Figures."

As inconspicuously as they could, the two began a hasty search, peering around every corner within fifty feet, looking for their lost compass. It would be of no matter though. River had indeed vanished.

Left dumbfounded and confused, Del was now spooked and Jayne was down-right alarmed. In fact, he was already getting his bearings to find the door they had just come through. Maybe they weren't too far to turn back.

With only a slight back-peddle the lummox returned to their heavy entryway from which they came, and found their situation worse than imagined. The door was shut tight, with no means of reopening. Jayne reacted spontaneously, without thinking, as was his way. With little cautiousness, he began throwing his body against their escape hatch, expecting to jar it open. He put all his muscle into it. And, as was also his way, he continued to fail, not so much as denting it.

"Hold on," Del said, hoping to calm the brute's antics. It would be three more heavy thuds of his shoulder against the bulwark before he would stop.

"Hold on to nothin'. We need to go. Now!" he emphatically said.

When Jayne started this journey more than a week ago he had ideas for many outcomes. Returning to the wandering life of a rogue, joining a crew that at least half knew what it was doing, maybe saving a life or two, his own not the least of which. Maybe he even had a shot at piecing back together the comrades he once belonged to, if he could earn their trust. Helping River would have gone a long way toward that. Heroics, though, were never his strong suit, and nowhere, in any of those hopes, was he prepared to die. Not before he played all his cards. And definitely not here, in a hole, ten stories deep in a place where no one would ever find his body. His mother deserved to have something to bury.

Del's motivations were not as varied as the old tracker's. She had felt the urge from the moment Fram showed her the grainy vid. She recognized the defeated, ruined look in the eyes of those children. And she knows too well the deep effect when innocence is taken away by the acts of harsh, callous men. Seeing the little ones lives leeched away, had left her on an edge. She wanted redress. And while the itch to avenge was readily familiar, the effort to satisfy it was not one she had undertaken before. It was turning out to be greater than she had imagined ...

Del stared at their fix in her mind. They were holding a snake by the tail here. And, generally, you only have two options when you have a snake in hand. Drop the venom and make a run, hoping you don't end up with teeth into you. Or, grab it by the throat before it knows what's comin'.

Jayne stepped back from the door and aimed his semi-repeater at it with a mix of desperation and frustration. His trigger finger's itch stopped short though, halted by the click of a Brooklyn Slocum's hammer being cocked into firing position. He knows a gun is aimed at him.

"Listen to me carefully," Del started. Her gun was slightly aimed from her hip, towards Jayne's temple. Not the most intimidating posture, but the girl's words could make up for that. "We came here to do a job, and we're going to do it." Her whispered voice still cut like a knife. "You can either help me do it, or I can put a bullet to you right now and finish it myself. One way or 'nother, you're going to quiet down."

Jayne hadn't seen this kind of stubbornness since the day Shepherd died.

"What's it going to be?"

* * *

River floated through the maze of hallways as though re-living a dream. She hadn't intended to abandon her two escorts but she also was not concentrating on their care. One of the side effects of her treatments at this facility was an inability to filter her thoughts and feelings. It took some years after her escape but eventually, River learned to let her mind wander on its own and to follow it without pressure or force to a particular path. If she thought or felt anything it was best to let it play itself out, and to ride it, like a wave, until it crashed to a stop on its own. Then she could pick herself up on whatever shore it ended and begin her task. This, she found, was the best way to avoid the debilitating headaches and nausea of trying to control something which no longer had controls. A rudderless boat with no sail.

The occasional bursts of past events that had begun from her first footsteps onto the grounds were growing in frequency and number. Whereas she once saw a whole scene replay through her mind, now it was more like excerpts, or streaks of passing remembrances, one running into the next. The inner halls she now wandered held too many memories and events to stay anchored to just one.

She saw so many faces.

Flint. He was the first to get truly sick. When he collapsed to the ground in the quad and started convulsing he was swiftly removed. It would be months before River saw him again, down here, underground and out of sight. She remembers passing him, slack-jawed on a gurney -

Harriet. Harry, for short. She was sweet, soft-spoken. She never appeared to get "sick" like the rest of them. She had a special affinity for maths, data. She enjoyed talking about less concrete things though, like human psychology -

Jeules. Energetic and sporty. He was always spurning someone into playing games of chase. So childlike. Usually -

Edwin. Tall, skinny. Always just out of reach of Jeules, in many ways -

Oda. Wrote poetry and loved to sing. Her black hair shimmered -

Elise. Dark hair, with eyes to match -

Boshin.

Dei -

Jacob -

All the names and faces River had involuntarily buried beneath layers of psychosis were now starting to rise again. The sensation was giving a dizzying effect. She shut her eyes tight, in hopes of finding a calm in the storm, and maybe regain some balance. Instinctively, she extended a hand to brace herself against the closest wall. Instead, she found a half-opened door and fell against its thick facade, instantly clinging to it, as though it were a life raft in the ocean of her turbulent mind.

The cool metal against her skin gave the loosening ravel of River's brain a sudden grounding. The overlapping memories were finally abating, like a tide rolling back out to sea, and away from the shore. Her eyes once again opened. She found herself staring into a dark, sparsely furnished room. A mere table and two chairs sat clinically in its middle. Her recognition of it grew slowly. This room was most familiar to her.

This is where they made her kill for the first time.

River directly stumbled backward, out of the room, in revulsion. The twisted feelings in her abdomen sent her doubled over in nauseatic pain, spitting up what little content her stomach contained. As she held herself over the puddle of sick she had spat onto the hallway floor, she tried to regain her breath. Vaguely, she hoped this regurgitation would also purge the grotesque event from her mind. She knew it would not but still, she longed for it.

Dwelling in this wish left her unguarded and unprepared for the next turn about to come. The tumult of the last few minutes was immediately drowned out and forgotten by the whisper of a single voice, strumming out from the darkened room behind her.

"Hello, _jie-jie_."

The soft mandarin words hummed in her ears. The term conjured something deep within her. It was a name River had not realized she had forgotten, until now. A name she last heard more than a decade ago ...

* * *

She dully lifted her hand to her throbbing head. The rush and pounding of blood through her skull was making it difficult to hear his words.

"...You'll have to write it again," said the dower man. "And this time try to sound more ... happy. We don't want to place undue worry on your family now, do we?"

River opened her left eye to squint at the cold light of the man's face. Her stare acknowledged she heard both his voice and his subtle threat.

"Good," he said. There was no cheer, no emotion whatsoever, in his voice. "I'll give you some time to rethink what you want to say." Coldly, he placed his hands in his pockets and strolled out the door, locking it behind him.

Still clutching her temple, River stared blankly at the sheet of paper and pencil lying next to her on the floor. Gazing at the empty white letterhead she lost all sense of time.

This would be the fifth letter in ... was it two months?

With the heavy oversight put on access to the cortex, River had hoped a handwritten letter might escape the scrutiny of the academy and reach her father, mother, or Simon. She was now learning that the Blue Sun sponsors liked to keep a sharp eye on all communications at the academy. Getting any message of help through would take some careful-

"River?"

The hushed voice seeped out of the darkest corner of their room. Elise.

"Maybe you should just play along with 'em?" posited the younger girl. "Do what they say." Her weakened mental and emotional state is not hidden by the lack of light. She has given up hope.

Faltering, River responded.

"It's not ... elected ... for their choice." The words were hard to put together what she meant. "The dance isn't ... what's lost." Reaching the end rope of her frustration River burst through the fog to concentrate on her words. "We're not alone." She clutched her chest, trying to hang on to concentration. "Our families are here ... coming to get us."

Just saying the word family summoned up a stir of thoughts ... feelings that could ignite her purpose. The feelings became overly intense, though, growing on themselves, like a feedback of love and acceptance washing over her. As refreshing as it felt, the impressions were growing out of her control. She would have to try to steady them in order to write-

"Not for me," Elise said. Her voice had a specific finality to it.

River's own thoughts of a mother, father, and brother sympathetically, instinctively, responded to the young girl's words. Although the two had rarely talked with each other River was now seeing the storybook that was Elise, in little bits. Excerpts in her mind.

 _She was an only child. ... Her father had died, near the end of the war. ...He was a highly decorated Alliance. All gleams on his chest. ... Her mother grew dark as did she. ...until the mother remarried. ... A new father was colder, looking for a new home and a new family of his own. The mother too longed for a new life, to forget the old ...Elise was sent away, to be forgotten. ...A prestigious academy would be enough to assuage any guilt ... Her mother got her in with the best. To be left there, and to grow on her own. Away. Alone. Forgotten. There were no others for her to count on now. ... Just herself._

River wasn't sure how she had come to read this book called Elise. She simply knew it to be a true story. A story she had never known or heard of before. River's story was far too different to have imagined it. River had a family to love and belong to all her life ... A father, a brother ... She was a sister. Being a sister was one of her favorite things about the 'verse. Often she liked it more than being a daughter. It gave her so much. A partner. An aid and abettor. A protector, to have safeguard with. Elise did not know any of that. Those delights, those charms, those safeties. How could she?

"I'll be your sister," River said. The words were the response to a question which Elise had never spoken to anyone. Only thought to herself, in the dark, alone.

The tense, unlit room seemed to settle its weight off the both of them after that. For a moment, comfort and ease were possible again. "We'll be sisters," River reaffirmed.

Meekly, Elise agreed in a whisper. "My big sister. My _jei_ _-jei."_

Sitting in the black the two girls took their ease from the thoughts of their captivity. River could already see a new chapter forming in Elise's book. It was an imaginary one, of two sisters, chasing and teasing and playing together. It was a fun bit of fancy to create, and see created. Soon though the fun was interrupted by a new voice coming into the conversation.

 _Watch when they come..._

 _Hearts cold like the blue sun_

"Do you hear that?" River asked.

 _No rest or sleep_

' _til they have you to keep_

Elise did not know what River was hearing. Was this some new game of hers?

"I ... I don't hear anything," she said.

 _Scratch claw scrape_

 _Bending you out of shape_

"It's Oda ... she's writing a poem again."

Elise guessed this must be one of River's games. The door to Oda's room was too far away ... and too thick to hear anything from. River couldn't possibly hear her voice from the other end of the hall.

 _When you're lost they've won_

 _Now here they come..._

With a renewed purpose River concentrated on retrieving the blank paper and writing implement beside her. She would have to sound ... cheery. Happy. So they wouldn't stop her correspondence.

 _When you do_

 _They come for you_

 _Two by two_

 _With hands of blue_

* * *

The memory of her young adopted sister was enough to drive River to her feet. With only a slight wobble she stood to meet the sounder still hidden in the darkened room. Had she succeeded so swiftly in her mission? Had she found those left behind?

The hushed voice beckoned her with both familiarity and further mystery. While it retained the pitch of someone she remembered dearly, it also seemed to fall short. Something in it was missing.

"Elise?" River asked. In her heart, she reimagined the whispy young teen from a decade ago. A meek girl, soft in form and function.

"No one is more surprised than me right now." The flatness of the woman's tone allowed River to identify the missing piece. Warmth and feeling were nowhere to be heard. Empathy had been removed.

The shallow knock of boots against cement tocked slowly louder as the whisperer stepped out from the abandoned room into the hallway to be identified. River's hope began its slow turn to horror.

"I knew I felt something coming for this room. I never imagined it would be my _jei-jei,"_ Elise said.

 **Interlude V**

Several years earlier, minus a day and an hour ...

The Firefly shuttle came to rest on the floor of the wide-open canyon. Its outer door sprang open to allow its two occupants, one carrying the other, to exit.

Mal knew he had only minutes to talk with his fading crewman. In his hurried state, he dropped Jayne, unintentionally, with a sharp thud against the ground. He would now have to heave him up once again, to get him into hiding. The desperation of their position was subtly hidden as he began spinning a new plan.

"Jayne. JAYNE! Wake up, buddy. C'mon." Mal lightly slapped the oaf, trying to keep him awake. Jayne, not fully sensical, raised his loose fists to fight back.

"What're you hitting me for?!"

"You passed out jackass. Listen. Look at me. ... They're tracking our Nav/Sat. They're probably on their way right now. Now I'm going to lead them away, but you have to wait here, _d_ _ong ma?_ Serenity will be along in a few hours. I'll double back when I can. If you don't hear from me - Hey!" Jayne started to dim again, his head dipping to his chest. "If you don't hear from me ... Well, I'll probably be dead. But don't ... "

Mal's words had grown too heavy for the concussed man to hear. They trailed into blackness as Jayne closed his eyes and lost consciousness completely. Before hearing his captain's final words.

The smells of his current whereabouts were not as fresh as the outdoors should have been. It smelled like a place that wanted to be civilized and sterile but was soaked in aged grime never the less. The dirty, greasy smell was definitely attention-grabbing for Jayne. It was one of comfort. In an instant, he knew where he was. Back among familiarities, in Serenity's infirmary.

Weakly, he flailed his right arm about, looking to find something solid. Something that would prove a reality. Was he still on the canyon floor or was he home? His swinging finally made contact with a tray of medical tools, sending them crashing to the floor with an unpleasant clang. This was indeed real. He is home.

Jayne lifted his eyelids slowly at first, then tried blinking his eyes repeatedly, languidly, trying to distinguish the delicate movement happening around him. Eventually, his crewmates came into focus for him. Simon and River, Kaylee, and Inara were circled around him as if waiting for something to happen. All four were a noticeably safe distance from him as he lay on Simon's recovery table.

"Heh," Jayne weakly laughed. It was the most elation he could muster.

His meager expression of joy was not met with the glad tidings he expected though. A tentative pall hung over the room. A pall cast by the austere shadow of silently furious captain. The shadow stepped into the medical bay's lights to be seen clearly.

Zoe.

"Where's Mal, Jayne?" The pointed timbre of her voice could have scared the skin off a reaver. It is clear to Jayne, as he sees her, why the crew is on edge. She has violence in her eyes.

The recuperating muscleman was not entirely aware of the circumstances he was clearly in the middle of. But he knew, from Zoe's face, that he'd better have an answer for her. His reply started out soft, like his mental state.

"I don't -"

Zoe was not in the mood for his meekness.

"What?!"

"I don't KNOW!" blurted Jayne, a little too firmly. He averted his eyes and rubbed his aching head in a vain attempt to garner sympathy. The room waited for confirmation of his words.

"He's telling the truth," River informed her. "He doesn't remember."

A long silence followed River's words. None of the crew knew what to make of the twists and turns of recent events, but there was now an obvious question. Has Jayne's newest sin, however unintentional, finally outweighed his usefulness?

The dead air atmo of the entire ship had become a steady disquiet. It had begun only moments ago but now had slowly built to a crescendo, becoming too much for Zoe. She drew her Mare's Leg rifle as a reflex, aiming directly at the center of their troubles: Jayne Cobb. "Rut it!" are the only words heard as she pulls the trigger.

The instance was not wholly unpredictable, however, none of the others in the room had quite anticipated such an abrupt event. It was Simon, of all people, who was the quickest to react, having been checking her temper from only slightly afront and beside his captain. His polished, manicured hands made contact with the side of her rifle's business end as her gun's barrel was pushed high and wide. Her shot, disappointingly, missed its target and instead pierced the rear wall of the infirmary. The whole of the crew was left in shocked silence.

"Not here," the doctor tells her. "Not in my infirmary." Simon, alone, is left staring down the barrel of Zoe's anger. Unexpectedly to all present, he holds. This was yet another surprising turn of events in as many days.

Zoe glared into the defiant doctor's eyes and chewed her decisions quickly. With Mal now missing, the workings of ship and crew were about to shift. She would have to be the center now. She would have to be the crews' rudder and sail. And she knows, the fabric of this crew is going to want to fray. She makes a decision to cut one thread free, in hopes to save the whole cloth.

As she leaves the room she gives Jayne his sentence.

"Get him off my ship. The next time I see him - I'm going to kill him."


End file.
